Page 29 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

“I’ll go with you. Please allow me to escort you.”

She smiled shyly, avoiding my gaze.

“I have a date. His name is Pierre Butler.”

The Pelicans had picked the power forward in the first-round of the NBA draft. The mighty basketball player had arisen and conquered our small city with an impressive skyhook. He was everywhere—news, radio, blogs, and billboards.

A small growl escaped my lips, and my body tensed as a streak of jealousy rose within me. I’d just poured my heart out to this woman, confessed my attraction to her, and expressed my desire to take our friendship to the next level. I felt vulnerable, and for the first time, I was afraid she would turn me down.

“Are you two—“

“No! Of course not. Our mothers set this up. My mom thinks he’s an appropriate suitor.” She rolled her eyes.

“Why didn’t Celeste ask me to escort you? I would have done it.”

She gave me a sideways glance causing the two of us to break out into hysterics. She patted my hand while simultaneously trying to catch her breath.

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Cancel. Go with me.” I was nervous at the thought of Kandace wrapped in another man’s arms.

“I can’t. You wouldn’t like it if I stood you up.” She stroked my cheek with her soft hand. “I’m not interested in him.”

“Fine,” I agreed with a sigh. “Go with him. When you’re done, come back to me.”

Kandace

“Kandace is present and accounted for. Tell us what the hell happened.” Eyes narrowed into slits belied Natasha’s saccharine sweet smile. This wasn’t girl talk—she was two seconds from exploding.

“What she really means is, what’s going on with you and Captain Freaking America?” Simone clarified after a long sip of cappuccino. “There’s way more than a vendor-client relationship there. Are you fucking Chadwick St. Clair?”

This morning, Chadwick had dropped me off at my apartment. The drive had been awkward. I hadn’t had a change of clothing or my hair products. I’d tried to use whatever I could find in his bathroom, but my hair was a nest. Like the girl in the red dress, I’d bundled it in a topknot and worn sunglasses as a disguise.

Once I’d arrived home and recharged my phone, it had become crystal clear why my battery drained. My voicemail was full, and I had fifty unread text messages from my friends. The last text was for a mandatory lunch date. Judging by the content of the group chat, we’d be forgetting the shrimp and grits. Chadwick St. Clair was on the menu.

I’d dressed in record time and rushed to the Treme neighborhood, finding a place to park with surprising ease. One by one, the girls had trickled into the restaurant, each with a varying level of a hangover. Their outfits were a complete one-eighty from last night’s looks. They wore no makeup and dark sunglasses framed their faces. In addition, they either wore joggers or leggings. Flip-flops were the shoes of choice.

“No. I’m not sleeping with Chadwick,” I frowned.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the absolute truth either. At the nightclub, he’d expressed an interest in sleeping with me. I’d thought he’d had too much to drink and was kidding, but he hadn’t been drunk at all. He was serious. ?Very serious.

A true believer in the hair-of-the-dog-that-bit-you philosophy, Keely sipped her ‘breakfast in a glass,’ which was what she called a Bloody Mary loaded with skewers of bacon, boiled eggs, and blue cheese stuffed olives.

“The fight made its way to the local blogs. Surprisingly, there is no video footage and no mention of your name. The City and Town blog referred to you as ‘the mysterious beauty.’” She plucked an olive off the skewer. “He kicked a guy’s ass, then he rushed over and gathered you in his arms. He comforted you.”

“If you aren’t sleeping with him, you’d better prepare yourself to sleep with him,” Simone spoke up. “I highly suggest making sure you’re hairless. ?Everywhere.” She cocked a brow.

An older couple at a neighboring table dining overheard her last statement. The woman looked over at our table and twisted her face in disgust. I averted my gaze as my ears instantly heated. I wished I’d never discussed my decision to abstain until marriage.

“Simone cut it out,” Natasha chastised. “You embarrassed her.” She turned her attention back to me. “Kandi, I’m still upset with you.”

“Natasha, I’m sorry for making you worry.” My eyes pleaded with my closest friend to forgive me. She nodded which I hoped meant that she did. I felt relieved that she was no longer angry and revisited Simone’s remark. “I’m not listening to her. Simone, the last time I followed your advice on hair, I walked around with a triangle-shaped structure on my head. Can we please change the subject?” I begged.

“Okay, Kandi Cane. Whatever you say. You and Chadwick are just friends. End of discussion.” Simone sighed and rolled her eyes in frustration. “Let’s hop onto another man. Are you prepared for your date with Pierre?”

Keely peered over her eyeglasses and our eyes met.

“What I want to know is how did you swing a date with Pierre ‘Chocolate Thunder’ Butler? He’s like Teflon, no woman can stick to him.”

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