Humphrey raised his chin. His expression was unreadable. “I look forward to it,” he said.
~41~
“Here’s hoping the kid gets its looks from Imani and not the piece of shit sitting to my right!”
The table came alive with laughter and clinking glasses following Haywood Lloyd’s bawdy toast.
Roman was the guest of honor for the evening out with his oldest friends and now business associates. The men had driven up to Boston for a Celtics game and were enjoying drinks courtesy of Lorenz Reyes, the only 21 year old at the table. A hearty meal was to follow as the celebration weekend concluded. Amid the well wishes, however, time for business had made its way in.
“It wasn’t about a pat on the back from our father for Stone,” Roman said in memory of his late brother. “He just wanted to do the right thing,” he watched the last of the whiskey circling the stout glass he turned in hand.
“I want to follow Stone’s lead,” Roman told his friends.
Gavis Eamon clasped Roman’s shoulder. “It’s a good lead to follow,” he said.
Roman nodded. “Stone started with nothing, less than nothing to go on and he brought down a powerful guy like my Uncle Emilio. The man was a player for decades. Now he’s living the quiet life of exile somewhere in Italy. Power gone. Then there’s Hump...spooked by the shreds of info Stone had collected. Yeah...yeah, that’s a lead I’ll happily follow.” He drained the amber liquid in his glass.
“That’s what I want this venture of ours to be,” he said once the others had drained their glasses in a show of support. “We’ll use the smallest, seemingly insignificant clues to take down those who believe themselves too big to be crushed.”
“A vestige,” Lorenz said, while their empty glasses were replaced with freshly filled ones. He nodded when he saw he had captured everyone’s attention.
“What, man?” Haywood queried.
“Vestige,” Lorenz repeated. “Defined by the Oxford Dictionary as ‘the smallest amount’, ‘a trace of something that is disappearing or no longer exists.’” He shrugged lazily with a playfully arrogant air. “I’m working to strengthen my vocab. Maybe I’ll charm a girl like Imani, the way this doofus did,” he grinned at Roman.
“It wasn’t my brainpower that wooed her,” Roman boasted.
“Obviously,” Lorenz replied and more laughter erupted.
“Gentlemen,” Roman called, raising his glass. “I think we have a name for our venture. To Vestige!”
“Vestige!” The others cheered and the sound of clinking glasses returned to the table.
~42~
Candace’s laughter brightened her living room like a melody. The Manhattan apartment suited her personality to a tee. In soothing colors of lavender, mauve and chocolate, the place hummed with warmth and vitality. Pitch felt rejuvenated whenever he visited, which was often.
Candace was signing off on the call she’d taken from a co-worker who rang just after she and Pitch went to enjoy TV in the living room after dinner.
“That sounded like good news,” Pitch said when she settled next to him on the couch. He smiled as the scent of her perfume floated much like the chiffon duster she wore over a pink satin lounge set.
“A surprise bridal shower for a coworker in the secretarial pool,” Candace fluffed her wavy light brown locks as she got comfortable.
“Busy lady,” Pitch remarked, his obsidian gaze following the shapely curve of his girlfriend's bare calves and lush thighs. “This plus Imani’s baby shower.”
“Yeah,” Candace sighed. “There’s a lot of love going around.”
They watched the rest of the crime drama in silence. When Mannix went to commercial, Pitch resumed his observation of Candace’s bare legs.
“How do you feel about that? Left out?”
She scooted around to face her boyfriend. “What do you mean?”
“Come on Candy-weddings, babies...”
“Am I nagging you about either?”
Pitch took her hand and measured it against his much larger one. “I know you must want at least one of those.”
“I want both of those,” she admitted with a shrug. “I’ll have them one day. I’m in no rush.”
“Because of me?”
“Because of me.” She smiled, looking up and around at her apartment. “This is all new to me, you know? I lived with Mama way longer than I should have. Most of my friends were out of their parents’ house by eighteen or before. I want time to enjoy my freedom, Vic, my own space.”
“I see,” Pitch gave an offended shrug of his brows and pretended to shove up from the sofa.
Candace laughed, stopping him by depositing herself on his lap. “Where are you going?”
“Giving you your space.”
She linked her arms around his neck and began to play at the cottony soft curls tapered at his nape. “But you’re the best part of having my space.”
Devilishly dark eyes narrowed along with a flutter of unfairly long lashes. “I really like your way with words,” he said.
“That all you like?”
“You know it’s not,” his mouth found hers.
