“May I?” He asked.
Imani offered consent with a faint tilt of her head. Once the jewelry was in place, he put a kiss to her hand and helped her to her chair. The rest of the party, including Imani’s lady’s attendants all took their places at small tables spaced close to the largest. Seconds later, the room erupted into applause.
“Americans,” Nassor sighed so that only Imani could hear, “such suckers for pomp.”
~~~
“What are we clapping for?” Vale asked.
“The fuck should I know?” Stone breathed, grimacing at the realization that he too was applauding.
“Maybe the applause is for the girl,” Gabriel said. “Understandable. She’s fucking gorgeous as hell.”
A round of murmured agreement circulated the table.
Pitch leaned close to Roman who hadn’t spoken a word since the door opened to admit the first arrivers.
“Is that your princess?” Pitch asked.
A different kind of darkness seemed to consume Roman’s features. He’d learned about the night’s festivities from some of the housekeeping staff he had developed a rapport with. He’d leaned hard on his brothers to have dinner there that night. Now, watching Imani smiling, laughing, her head tilted close to the guy who had adorned her with diamonds...he almost regretted being there...almost.
“She’s not mine. Yet,” he said to Pitch finally.
“I don’t know, Ro. That looks serious.”
“I’ll say,” Vale remarked, having overheard. “You guys see the sparkle off that bracelet?”
Pitch moved closer to Roman, squeezing the fist his younger brother had clenched. “Take it easy. She’s just talkin’ to the guy.”
“He’s too old for her.”
“Seems to be a good conversationalist, though,” Pitch nodded to where the striking couple laughed together at the big table.
Roman started to shove up from his chair. Pitch shackled his wrist, preventing the move.
“You’ll never have a chance with a girl like that if you keep your temper in it.”
Roman kept his eyes on the table. “Good advice, but I don’t need it.” With that, he left the dining room in a huff.
Pitch studied his brother’s departure. “There’s a time when we all need advice like that.”
~22~
Roman downed a fourth glass of water to replenish fluids lost during his workout. He’d decided it couldn’t hurt to add a long run to his earlier efforts.
That morning, he’d visited one of the boxing gyms he knew in the area. After laying into the heavy bag, bare handed until his knuckles screamed, he took on a couple of sparring sessions. His plan was to work off the steam still pressuring his brain from last night.
Pitch was right, he’d never have a girl like Imani if he let his temper in. A girl like Imani. He wanted Imani, not someone like her. Judging from last night’s ceremony it would take a miracle for that to happen. It would take more than a miracle. Chief Hilar Kamande seemed like a fair and wise man, but Roman was sure he’d never approve of his daughter, his only daughter, paired up to the likes of him.
They’d progressed far beyond Civil War times, but not so far that the foreboding gleam of race didn’t still overshadow most aspects of life. Particularly, the aspects related to love. The Civil War had been fought and decided by the time Roman’s family had dotted America’s shores. Unfortunately; the way society saw it, he was still a white man. An American son and privy to all of its advantages.
Hilar Kamande would see such an interest in his daughter as a passing fancy-a dalliance- a way for Roman to feed his curiosity regarding the erotic delights of the darker continent.
Roman winced as the idea made him draw a fist-try to draw a fist considering his bruised knuckles. He wanted to believe his interest in Imani Kamande stemmed from more than her outer beauty and grace, but he had no real proof of that. After all, he didn’t know a damn thing about her. There was no time and even less opportunity for that unless he was considering a move to Mozambique.
The idea made him smile. Her brothers would have him killed before he left the airport or the plane for that matter. Roman couldn’t say he blamed them. She was a woman worth treasuring, worth protecting. He didn’t know much about her, but he could sense the goodness in her.
She didn’t trust her intended, but she had treated the man graciously and courteously. She deserved a man who would cherish her. If it couldn’t be him, he would do what he could to see that the one by her side deserved to be there.
“Can I get you a refill or something to eat, maybe?”
The waitress gave the offer with a smile Roman appreciated especially when he’d only ordered water.
“Sorry, I’m not in the mood for breakfast,” he returned the waitress’s smile with his own sheepish attempt. “I’ll be out soon so you can get some paying customers over here.”
“It’s no trouble. Believe me.”
Roman smiled, understanding that he was being flirted with. “Thanks. I’m good here,” he assured the woman in a tone that was quiet yet polite.
The waitress left with a lingering smile and Roman decided he’d better get a move on with his run. He was pushing back his chair when he did a double take toward the cafe entrance. Imani? He wondered, but couldn’t be certain. She was dressed in gym pants and matching jacket with a pair of white tennis shoes. Her braids were pulled into a low ball at her nape and covered by a baseball cap. The brim was pulled low over her eyes.
Recognizing a disguise when he saw one, Roman shook his head, dug out a few bills to leave the kind waitress a generous tip. Then, he set off.
~~~
“Thank you,” Imani barely peeked from beneath the brim of the oversized cap when the waiter returned with the cup of espresso she’d ordered.
The small cafe had a relaxed, informal feel to it which gave her hope that her family might avoid it. Her brothers especially preferred wide open spaces with as much grandeur as could be mustered.
