Sweet Southern Nights. Rochelle Alers

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       Levi’s gaze went from her mouth to the vase and candleholders. “They’re beautiful.”

       “Thank you,” she said softly. “If you ever need a gift for a wedding or a baby shower let me know and I’ll give you the family discount.”

       “I’m going to take you up on your offer because there’ve been a few newborns in the family this year.”

       Angela traced the rim of her wineglass with a forefinger. The glow from the track lights and flickering candles flattered the planes of Levi’s face. His gentle manner, deep voice and effortless conversation made her feel as if she’d known him for weeks instead of hours. “Let me know when you’re free and I’ll give you a private showing.”

       “I’m off on Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays,” Levi quickly offered.

       “The Garden Gate is closed on Sundays and Mondays.” Mondays were when she spent most of the day writing, and she rarely scheduled anything that day. Levi would be the exception. “When do you want to come in?”

       “I’ll call and let you know.”

       Angela was certain he’d heard her sigh of relief because she’d hoped to finish her manuscript by midweek. She normally would’ve indulged in a marathon writing session on Sunday and Monday. But her cousin Yvette’s wedding had forced her to change her plans.

       “I’d prefer you come on Sunday, since Traci and I usually meet with consignment customers and prospective brides on Mondays.”

       Leaning back in his chair, Levi studied the woman whose cooking skills were exceptional and who continued to amaze him. He found her guarded, much too guarded whenever she talked about herself.

       “Where did you go to college?”

       Angela picked up her wineglass and took a sip. “Spelman.”

       “Why did you decide to go there?”

       “My mother and grandmother were both Spelman alums. And you, Levi?”

       “Howard, and then the University of Pennsylvania med school.”

       Her brow furrowed. “If you were already at Howard why didn’t you go to med school there?”

       “I gave it a lot of thought, but realized I wanted to be close to my family in Philadelphia.”

       Angela sat up straight. “I thought you said you were from Miami.”

       “My dad’s family is from Philadelphia. However, there are some Eatons who live in D.C., West Virginia, South Carolina and Texas now.”

       “Is your father a doctor, too?”

       Smiling, Levi shook his head. “No. He’s a judge.”

       “So he likes putting away the bad guys.”

       “He loves it.”

       Angela’s eyes lit up in excitement when her mind churned with ideas. “Tell me about the Eatons, Levi.”

       Levi took a surreptitious glance at his watch. It was after ten—much later than he thought. Somehow he’d lost track of time talking with Angela, and for him that was a good sign. “Perhaps I’ll tell you about them some other time. Besides, you know enough about me so that we won’t seem to be total strangers tomorrow.”

       “What do I tell people when they ask how long we’ve been seeing each other?”

       “We tell them the truth.”

       “And that is?”

       “We’ve just started dating.”

       Angela nodded, wondering if that explanation would satisfy her mother. That was why she was always reluctant to introduce a man to her family—her mother in particular. She’d immediately launch into an interrogation. Her father was less concerned with her love life as long as word didn’t get back to him that some guy had caused her grief.

       Benton Chase had wanted to personally go after Robert when he ran off with her maid of honor. It had taken everything for Angela to convince the men in her family not to inflict bodily harm on Robert Gaskin. She had always been a believer in “what goes around comes around.” If he cheated on her, he would eventually cheat on his new bride or she would cheat on him.

       When Angela’s engagement had been announced, a collective sigh went up all over Louisville since she’d managed to snag one of the city’s most eligible bachelors. They were the perfect couple—the children of two of Kentucky’s most prominent African-American families. Uniting the Chase and Gaskin families was cause for celebration, and had Louisville buzzing.

       However, what Angela didn’t know at the time was that her fiancé had been sleeping with her best friend, Savannah, who was to be her maid of honor. They’d managed to keep their relationship a secret until the night before she and Robert were to be married. A few hours after the rehearsal dinner, Robert had called to tell her that he and Savannah were flying to Las Vegas to marry, because they were expecting.

       What had surprised Angela most was that she didn’t cry. Pain, humiliation and anger had rendered her emotionless. It was as if all of her feelings were suppressed, and as her life unfolded she seemed to be just going through the motions.

       She shifted in her chair when she heard soft meowing. Miss Divine had emerged from her hiding place in the laundry room. Pushing back his chair, Levi stood up. “I didn’t know you had a kitten.” He stared at the tiny white feline with splotches of dark brown fur. Her eyes were blue-gray, and her nose was pink and black, with a long tail that was darker brown than the rest of her body.

       “Miss Divine is not a kitten. She’s almost four.”

       Levi approached the cat as she sat still, watching him come closer. “Is she the runt?”

       “Miss Dee is not a runt!”

       He gestured at Miss Divine. “What else can she be, Angela? She’s no bigger than a six-month-old kitten.”

       Angela walked over to her cat. And when she leaned over to pick her up, Miss Divine scooted to sit between Levi’s legs. “Come here, baby,” she said, beckoning her closer. Miss Divine responded by rubbing her face against the leg of Levi’s trousers.

       “Why you little traitor,” she gasped when Levi picked her up.

       Levi rubbed a finger over the soft fur. “She knows I like cats.”

       Angela rolled her eyes. “Miss Dee is usually skittish around strangers. Whenever the doorbell rings she runs and hides.”

       “I’ve never seen a full-grown cat this small.”

       “She’s what is called a Singapura. The breed originated from feral cats that lived in the drains of Singapore. Because they’re quite scarce in the States, they are very expensive. I heard that an owner of a male Singapura was offered ten thousand dollars from a breeder.”

       “That’s incredible.” He smiled when the СКАЧАТЬ