Page 58 of Caught off Guard

After their visit, my parents traveled with Lena to her home as I packed a bag for the press conference. Cairo and I texted and agreed to wear black business attire, but he told me to come in casual clothes and no makeup with my outfit hanging in a garment bag.

When I arrived at Cairo’s house, a glamorous woman wearing what appeared to be a designer dress smiled big and met me at the door.

“Dr. Langston, we’ve been expecting you. I’m Donna, your stylist for the day.”

“Thank you.” I shook the hand she extended and followed her upstairs.

We entered the upstairs guest bedroom where I stayed last weekend. A team of two people dressed in matching black T-shirts and pants smiled and rushed toward me when I entered.

Donna took the garment bag from my hands and gave it to another polished young woman who removed my dress from the bag and took it to a steamer across the room. As she steamed my clothes, the second person, a slim man named Rufus, ushered me to a portable stylist’s chair where an elaborate setup of makeup, hair styling tools, and a floor-length mirror stood.

“You are gorgeous, and I’m going to make those fools regret the day they messed with you.”

Donna shot him a cutting look, which he ignored. Nevertheless, he got to work on my hair and makeup. Within thirty minutes, the team put their final touches on my ensemble and face. The reality of what was about to happen settled in as I placed my hands over my stomach and said a silent prayer for Cairo’s support. Rufus drew me from my musings when he covered my face with a generous amount of setting spray.

“President Langston, after today, they are going to call you Queen.” Rufus turned my chair around slowly, raising his hands in the air as if he had outdone himself with his work.

I gasped when I saw my reflection in the mirror. Rufus wasn’t lying. I looked like a conservatively classy runway model with perfectly contoured cheeks and full, kissable lips. Rose-colored tones highlighted my butterscotch skin tone and made me look youthful and happy. The pristine arcs of my brows and the dark lashes beneath transformed me into modern-day royalty—approachable with an air of class that would make someone think twice about messing with me. By now, everyone stood around me.

“Thank you all for this.” I turned and blew an air kiss to the team, who smiled and aahed.

Donna smiled and held my crisp dress high on its hanger.

“Rufus wasn’t lying. It’s our pleasure to support Cairo’s new queen.”

Instead of correcting her, I smiled and rose to get dressed. Cairo must have spread our relationship story on thick. That was my cue to get my head in the game so the world would be convinced too.

Later that afternoon, Cairo and I sat in the medium-sized office of his home, flanked by our attorneys, my family, and select members of the press. As planned, he and I wore matching black outfits—me, a sophisticated high-collar jacquard dress with puffy three-quarter length sleeves, and him, a tailored blacksingle-breasted suit with a snow-white shirt that featured his biceps as the star of the show.

I brushed the expensive fabric of my dress with my fingers, pausing at one of the hidden buttons near the collar waist long enough to take a breath and regroup. With the elegant silhouette of my dress and the classic style of Cairo’s ensemble, we screamed power couple in every sense of the word. Like we practiced with our attorneys, I held Cairo’s hand.

“You ready?” he asked in a soothing voice that made my insides quiver.

“Yes.”

He licked his lips and searched my face, his eyes landing on my lips.

“Dang, Zora. You are so pretty.” He brushed his long fingers behind my ear, down to my neck, then placed them in his lap.

When he leaned close to my ear, I drew my head closer to his lips, keeping my eyes down. In a soft voice, he said, “If you weren’t so majestic, I would take you to my room to undo everything the glam squad did to pull you together.”

His words made my heart flutter. The possibility of what he said ran through my head. I cleared my throat and met his gaze head on.

“I dare you.”

He chuckled.

“Woman…don’t start with me.”

“Then stop making promises you can’t keep.”

We then blushed and grinned at each other, making goo-goo eyes that were becoming our norm.

“Be good.” I reprimanded him with a quick wag of my pointer finger.

“I can’t promise I’ll do that.”

I smiled as we adjusted our bodies in our chairs to face the people in the room and start the press conference.

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