“I love taking care of Warrick, and he’s a good man. I just want us to make things official. Hell, at this point I’d forgo my dreams of a church wedding and marry him at the justice of the peace. All I want is to become Mrs. Warrick Carver.”
Sage couldn’t resist saying, “That’s what you get for moving in with him. I told you not to do it, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Now he’s treating you like the hired help because it’s his house.”
“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint because you lived with Jake and Adrian,” she pointed out. “How can you tell me not to do something you’ve done twice?”
“That was years ago,” Sage explained, bristling at the accusation. “I was young and stupid then and I had nowhere else to go. You, on the other hand, make good money as a senior flight attendant. You had your own house, a car and plenty of money before you ever met Warrick. Sure he’s bought you a lot of nice stuff over the years, but nothing you couldn’t buy for yourself.”
“You’re right.” There was a hitch in her voice. “Sage, you know Warrick. You’ve seen us together. Why do you really think he won’t set a wedding date?”
Sage paused. Her best friend was hurting and the last thing she wanted to do was pour more oil onto the fire. But what kind of friend would she be if she didn’t tell Tangela the truth? “Girl, you know I love Warrick like a brother, but I think he’s playing you. He’s doing just enough to keep you around. After all, he didn’t pop the question until you threatened to leave, right? You applied the pressure and he caved. He dangled that Harry Winston diamond in your face and you snatched it up quicker than a rabbit with a big, fat, juicy carrot!”
“It’s not like that,” she protested. “It’s great that he has money, but I’d marry Warrick even if he wasn’t a millionaire.”
“I know, Tangela. I know.” Sage sat down on the cold pavement and tied her shoelaces. “Are you still thinking about moving out?”
The silence was profound.
“I don’t know. There’s a lot going on right now and…I’m not sure.”
Tangela was holding back. Something else was troubling her, but she didn’t want to talk about it. Instead of pressing the issue, Sage offered to help. “I’ll be back next week, but if you need somewhere to go—”
“I know. Use the spare key, feed the fish and don’t eat all of the shredded wheat,” she repeated in a lifeless tone of someone who’d heard it many times before.
Sage laughed. Bending her hips like a pretzel, she slowly reached down and touched the tips of her sneakers. Five more minutes of stretching and she’d give her lazy body a good dose of exercise.
“How are things going up there? Made any progress with that Marshall guy?”
Recalling what happened last night at Champions Sports Bar frustrated Sage afresh, but made Tangela laugh hysterically. “If it wasn’t for Denzel, the player from hell, I would’ve spent the rest of the night hanging out with Marshall.”
“Ooh, that sounds intimate,” Tangela cooed. “What’s this Marshall guy like?”
Sage paused. Good question. What was he like? If Tangela had asked her four days ago, she would have said Marshall Grant was a brute of a man with a down-home Michigan attitude and a sexy Brooklyn swagger. But yesterday she’d seen a charming side to him, a protective side, and she liked it.
The sound of Tangela’s voice cut into her thoughts. “You’re stalling. That must mean he’s superfine! Is he light-skinned with good hair?”
“No.”
“Is he buff?”
“You know it.”
“Does he drive a Hummer truck?”
Sage joked, “The closest Marshall’s ever been to a Hummer truck is peering at one through the showcase window.”
“He doesn’t sound dreamy,” Tangela confessed, after a lengthy pause.
“He’s supertall and he has the most gorgeous smile, but he doesn’t look like Antwan or anything. Honestly, he’s the last guy you’d expect to see me with.”
“And you’re attracted to him?”
“I know, it’s crazy, but there’s something about him that turns me on. Every time I see him, I break out.” Sage giggled. “Tangela, it’s disgusting. Brings back memories of when I was thirteen. Not good times.”
“Girl, you’re too much! Thanks, I needed a good laugh.”
“I’m glad I could entertain you, but I only have a few more days to sign Khari and things aren’t looking good. If I blow this, there goes the executive manager position, and I’ll be stuck toting around child stars for the rest of my life.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sage. You’ll get the job done. You always do.”
“I wish I had your faith, but it’s been one problem after another. Leo will have my head if I don’t come through.”
“Remember, success doesn’t come to you, you have to go out and get it.”
“Oh, so now you’re quoting me,” Sage teased. “It’s good to know my pearls of wisdom aren’t being wasted…” Hearing the distant sound of male voices, she turned in the direction of the parking lot. Marshall and Khari were climbing out of a rusted Jeep, equipment bags on their shoulders and water bottles in their hands. What the hell?
Her Puma tracksuit, hat and gloves were stylish, but her hair was gathered in a sloppy ponytail and she didn’t have a lick of makeup. If she had known Marshall would be here, she would have dressed up. Or at the very least, put on some mascara. Jogging in low-rise jeans and leather boots would kill her ankles and raise suspicion, but at least she’d look good doing it. Now, instead of sauntering over and striking up a conversation, she had to find a way to escape unseen. Damn!
On the line, Tangela called her name, her voice loud and frantic. “Sage? Are you there? Is everything all right? Sage?”
“I gotta go.” Sage hung up the phone, slipped it into her pocket and took off back to her car like a lightning bolt.
Sage had one foot inside the rental car when she heard a familiar voice behind her.
“Where are you running off to?”
So much for a clean getaway, she thought, facing Marshall. She could see Khari starting to run in the distance. “Hey, what’s up?”
“I thought that was you out on the track,” he said, coming over.
“It’s a small world, isn’t it?” Sage had never been the shy sort, but the way he was looking at her made her wish she was anywhere but there. Lipstick would have brightened her face, and concealer would have minimized the hideous pimple on her chin. His eye contact was intense and admiring, but that didn’t mean he didn’t notice the unsightly blemish.
“I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me.” His gaze tore into her, and goose bumps pricked
