Page 31 of Kandi's Crush: A BWWM Sweet Billionaire Romance

“Hello. There is a delivery for Kandace Alexander.”

“Delivery?”

“Yes. A special delivery.” A smile stretched across the man’s face.

“Ooh. A special delivery,” my mother cooed, having apparently overheard the conversation. “Is it from Pierre? Maybe it’s flowers.”

Doubtful. Only a gentleman would send flowers. I ignored her and opened the door, standing in the doorway with my hand outstretched. The ball was due to start in ninety minutes. I didn’t have time to dawdle with this delivery guy or my mother.

“I’ll be back. I will help my partner bring everything inside,” the man smiled.

“Everything?” My mind raced with the possibilities, and I couldn’t figure out what he was going to deliver.

“Everything,” he repeated before he turned and walked away while mumbling something about a thousand dollars

“Kandi, what is it? I can’t wait to see what it is! Marie and I could stop by and at least see the two of you off.”

My mind drifted back to my senior prom, and I imagined my mother and auntie taking hundreds of photos of Pierre and I with their cell phones. I took that as a hint to hurry from the phone.

“I’ll check and call you right back.” I ended the chat without saying goodbye. I grabbed my keys from the console table and followed the man to the parking lot.

Chadwick

It was time to raise the stakes to a full-on romantic assault. I prepared myself to give Kandace everything—seduction, romantic gestures, one-on-one time . . . Whatever she needed to see things my way.

I had to admit that Kandi’s date, Pierre, made me nervous. I assumed they had a lot in common. Not only was he closer to her age, but he was very good looking and a popular athlete. Most women would go for a man like that. My reputation diminished my romantic value, and I was afraid her innocence would lead her straight into Pierre’s arms.

That was why I’d called in a last-minute favor to my florist. Maybe it was an overstatement to call Calliope’s Flower Boutique my florist, I sent flowers to my mother to celebrate holidays, birthdays, and as a general ‘get well soon.’ In my adult life, I’d never given flowers to .

My phone vibrated as a photo of Kandace with her sorority sisters displayed on the screen. I smiled and pressed the answer button.

“Chadwick! What did you do!” she squealed gleefully. “They’re beautiful! I’ll send a photo. Gosh! Twenty-one dozen yellow roses with red tips? Thank you! You’ve made my day.”

At the suggestion of the florist, I’d chosen the yellow roses with red tips because of their meaning. The roses symbolized friendship budding into romance. I decided on twenty-one dozen for each year she’s graced this earth.

“Remember . . . Go to the ball with him, and when you’re done, call me. I want to see you.”

“Yes. Of course.”

I didn’t enjoy attending black tie events, but galas, balls, benefits, and receptions were an unfortunate part of my life. The Sportsman’s Ball was a significant event—it would be my first formal social event since I’d returned to New Orleans. I broke from my typical habits and go solo. My usual tactic was to sift through my contact list to find a suitable date. ‘Suitable,’ meaning a beautiful woman who possessed a graceful presence and hellcat bedroom tendencies.

My sole purpose of attending the ball was crystal clear. I went to cockblock. By hook or by crook, Kandace would leave with me.

When my car pulled up to the red carpet, a throng of local photographers greeted me and asked for photos. I stood and posed for the requisite number of pictures before heading into the dimly lit ballroom.

Feathers and blood-red roses arranged in tall, classically beautiful centerpieces transformed the room into a twenties speakeasy. Adding to the mood was a lounging area with dark brown leather sofas accented with crimson pillows.

There were groups of ladies taking photos in ankle-length fringed gowns while holding long cigarette holders. Small groups of gentlemen clustered around the bar. They laughed and slapped each other’s backs while a mixologist created specialty cocktails with various bottles of elixirs and spirits.

I leisurely surveyed the gathering. Every few feet, I stopped to chat with old friends and acquaintances, socializing with the crowd until I spotted Pierre towering over the sea of revelers. With my place card in hand and a slight spring in my step, I headed in that direction.

Kandace was a stunning vision. She was a ray of sunshine in a sea of black, gold, and white gowns, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. The low back of the red strapless dress had me thinking lascivious thoughts. How she would respond if I ran my tongue along the golden-brown flesh of her exposed shoulder?

A smile spread across her face as our eyes met. Her gaze casually drifted from my head to my feet and back up again, raising an eyebrow in approval.

“Chadwick, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to support the cause.”

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