much he spent on my jewelry. It was like a competition to see which man could spend the most on their wives.”
“Girl, you have a fortune sitting in the bank collecting dust.”
“Like I said before—I’m not selling anything. I like my jewelry.”
“Have you ever heard of paste?”
“No. What’s paste?”
“Basically, paste is leaded glass made to look like diamonds and colored stones. I know a place where you can take your jewelry, have it copied and then sell the originals.” Reese had once worked in the Diamond District as a sales clerk, and she still had connections on Forty-Seventh Street.
“I don’t know, Reese. This jewelry is the only thing of value I have left. If I sell it, then what?”
“You’ll be able to pay your bills and not have to wait for the divorce settlement to get some much-needed cash.”
Ayana had digested her friend’s words. Reese made perfect sense. Ayana thought about the five-carat diamond engagement ring, set in platinum and sitting in the safe-deposit box. The ring that she had once treasured and wore with pride had little meaning now that her marriage was over. “I guess you do have a good point.”
“I have an excellent point. Besides, you’ll still have the same jewelry designs to wear—they just won’t be the real thing. This jeweler is so good that no one will be able to tell the difference.”
“Okay. I could actually sell my wedding set and a few other pieces. That should hold me over until the divorce is final.”
That afternoon, Ayana had gone to the bank and taken her five-carat engagement ring, diamond-encrusted wedding band and sapphire necklace out of the safe-deposit box, then met Reese at the jeweler’s shop on Forty-Seventh Street. A week later, she’d picked up the pastes and couldn’t believe how authentic the pieces looked. She’d sold the originals, making enough money to sustain herself for the duration of the proceedings.
* * *
“Ana! Ana!” yelled the children from the shelter when they saw the yellow scooter pull into the yard.
New Beginnings was near and dear to Ayana’s heart. The small, privately run shelter relied on donations from generous patrons, and Ayana was at the top of that list. She didn’t have any children of her own and considered the kids at the shelter her babies.
“Hey, guys! What’s happening?” Ayana hopped off the scooter, gathered as many children into her arms as she could hold and gave them all a huge hug.
“Now, now, chilrin, leave Ms. Lewis be. Go now and do yo work,” Marigold, the shelter’s administrator, said as she came into the yard waving her hands and shooing the children away.
“Did you get the shipment yet?”
“All dose big boxes come, and me didn’t know what to do wit all dose clothes.” She smiled. “We thank ya.”
“You’re welcome. It was no problem. All I did was collect clothes from friends of mine who were purging their closets.”
“Ya do more than send clothes. Ya send checks too, and dey help keep dis place going.”
Ayana looked a bit embarrassed; she didn’t like when Marigold praised her for helping. The shelter needed assistance, and she was just glad that she was now in a position to help.
“And dat stuff you send look brand-new. Some of dem tings still had da tags on ’em.”
“Yeah, I know. I only select clothes that are gently worn, if not new. Did you see the note attached to that blue dress? It’s for you.”
“I saw it, but dat dress is too fancy fo me.”
“It’s only a sundress.”
“Yeah, a sundress by Ralph, uh...uh...”
“Lauren. Ralph Lauren.”
“Where me gonna wear some designer dress to? After me husband die, I don’t go out much.”
“Well, you never know what life has in store. Maybe you’ll get invited to a party or asked out on a date. It’s always good to have a go-to dress in your closet.”
“I no want no date. James was de love of me life and after he die, a piece of me died too.”
“Marigold, you’re still a good-looking woman, and I’m sure James wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life.” Ayana sympathized with her friend but always tried to be encouraging.
“James did tell me not to pine away for him for too long,” she said with a sorrowful look in her eyes.
“See what I mean. James wouldn’t want you spending every night home alone.”
“Okay, okay, me keep Mista Lauren. Ya wanna come in fo some lunch? Me make kingfish stew and coco bread.”
“No, thanks. I already ate. I have to go back home and pack. I just came by to see if you got the clothes and to see you and the kids.”
“We hate to see ya go.” Marigold gave Ayana a warm hug.
“I hate to go, but duty calls.”
The truth was, Ayana wasn’t looking forward to returning to New York, but her hiatus was over. The reality show that she starred in was resuming filming in a few days. She had spent two glorious months in Jamaica, eating her mother’s home cooking, taking long walks on the beach and meditating at her favorite place high in the Blue Mountains. The serenity and beauty of the island, and being surrounded by people who loved her, had rejuvenated her soul. Now Ayana was ready to resume her hot-blooded persona and tackle another season of Divorced Divas.
Chapter 2
“We’ll be starting our descent in the New York area shortly, so please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts.”
Ayana heard the flight attendant’s announcement through the lavatory door. She looked in the mirror and was satisfied with her transformation. Gone was the girlish ponytail, replaced by a long, flowing, platinum-blond lace-front wig. She’d traded in her island uniform of cutoff blue jean shorts, sleeveless T-shirt and flip-flops for a sexy black-and-white Tom Ford pencil skirt that hugged her full hips. The matching chiffon blouse with blouson sleeves was secured around her slim waist with a wide black leather belt dotted with silver studs. Black-and-white layered necklaces and a pair of five-inch strappy platforms completed the high-maintenance look. She applied a double coat of ruby-red lipstick to her perfectly made-up face to add a pop of color. Ayana gathered her belongings and put them back in her Prada tote. She exited the lavatory and returned to her seat in first class.
“Would you like anything else before we land?” asked the attendant.
“I’ll have a glass of champagne. Actually, make it two.”
After the attendant brought the drinks, Ayana drank the two flutes of bubbly and readied herself for any photographers or reporters who might be waiting for her once she deplaned. Divorced
