more than insufferable, egotistical, nauseating frogs! She would go out with Ethan McMillan, but if he exhibited even the slightest indication that he was like the rest of her past dates, then he would also be relegated to frog status.
The downstairs bell chimed, and Faith glanced around the apartment before going over to the intercom. Depressing a button, she spoke into the tiny speaker next to the door. “Who is it?”
“We’re here,” the sisters said in unison.
Tessa had called to let Faith know that she and Simone were meeting at the West 4th Street Washington Square subway stop. Both had decided to leave their cars in Brooklyn Heights and White Plains respectively, and take the subway and railroad.
Smiling, Faith pressed the button that would release the lock on the outer door. She was ready for her Monday-night get-together. It’d been several months since her cousins had come to Manhattan for their bimonthly dinner because she hadn’t been available. Unlocking the door, she opened it slightly before walking over to the refrigerator to remove a bowl of salad. She’d even included her shrimp theme in the salad.
“Something smells good,” Simone announced, sticking her head through the slight opening in the door. At the same time she removed her boots, leaving them on the thick straw mat.
Faith smiled at Simone. “I made one of your favorites.” She knew how finicky her cousin was when it came to food.
Petite, hazel-eyed, with a profusion of red and gold-streaked curly hair falling down her back, Simone Whitfield had been blessed with a natural seductiveness that was startling and breathtaking at the same time. The talented, divorced, thirty-three-year-old floral decorator always shocked men when she revealed her age because she looked as if she were barely out of her teens. While most women would’ve given anything to look years younger without help from a plastic surgeon, Simone complained that she was still carded when ordering a drink.
Simone walked into Faith’s apartment, set a shopping bag on the floor, removed her coat and hung it up. Her eyes widened when she saw a quartet of shrimp perched around the rim of crystal cocktail glasses filled with cocktail sauce at each place setting.
“Thank you, Faith,” she crooned, moving over and hugging her cousin.
Faith returned the hug. “You’re welcome.” She didn’t get along with Simone as well as she did Tessa because of Simone’s occasional dark moods. Simone blamed her mercurial disposition on seasonal affective disorder, but Faith attributed most of it to her on-again, off-again relationship with her shiftless, trifling ex-husband.
“Everything looks nice,” Tessa said, walking in and closing the door. She slipped out of her coat, draping it over a hook on the coat tree.
There was no mistaking Tessa and Simone for sisters, although Tessa’s hair, eyes and complexion were darker than Simone’s. Thirty-one-year-old Tessa had become a preeminent wedding and event planner in the four years since starting up Signature Bridals and Event Planners, Inc. with her sister and first cousin. Tessa owned sixty percent of the company, while Simone and Faith shared equally in the remaining forty. The company had afforded the thirty-something Whitfields a very comfortable lifestyle.
“Thanks. I love your haircut, Tessa,” Faith said, smiling. She was surprised to see that Tessa had cut her hair. For years she’d affected a flyaway hairdo that was a modified throwback to the Afro of the seventies. The shorter style was a combination of punk and chic.
“Enough chitchat,” she said, extending her hand to Tessa. “Let me see it.” Tessa held out her left hand. Prisms of light sparkled from a magnificent cushion-cut diamond with round and baguette diamonds set in platinum. Faith turned her hand over. There were pavé diamonds on the band. “It is exquisite, Tessa.” There was no mistaking the awe in Faith’s voice. She placed her arms around her cousin’s neck and kissed her cheek. “You deserve all of the good things coming to you.”
“Stop, Faith, before I start crying. And I did enough of that yesterday to last me a lifetime.”
Simone removed a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of pink hydrangeas and grape hyacinths and a bottle of white wine from the shopping bag. “Tessa had everyone crying, Mama, Daddy and Aunt Edie. Even Uncle Henry wiped away a tear or two.”
“Did your soon-to-be, manly man brother-in-law cry?” Faith teased.
“No. In fact, he seemed rather amused. I can’t wait to see what happens when we go to Franklin Lakes this coming Sunday to have dinner with the Sanborns. And please, Faith, don’t tell me you have something on your calendar for Sunday,” Simone drawled facetiously.
A slight frown appeared between Faith’s eyes. “I don’t believe I do.”
“Go check!” the sisters chorused.
Hiding a grin, Faith crossed the room and picked up her PDA from the bedside table and scrolled through her calendar. “I’m good.” She hadn’t planned anything for the day, but she would’ve used the time to bake and decorate a couple of cakes for her book.
“I’ll call and let you know what time Micah and I will pick you up,” Tessa said. “And if it’s not raining or snowing, then dress casually. And bring a change of clothes,” she added cryptically.
“Why?”
“That’s because the Sanborns get together to play touch football on Sundays.”
Faith shook her head while waving a hand. “Forget it, Tessa. I don’t do sports.”
“Neither did I before I got involved with Micah,” Tessa admitted reluctantly.
“I love rolling around in the dirt,” Simone said, as she filled a vase with water and skillfully arranged the colorful blooms.
Faith gave her cousin an incredulous look. “That’s because to you dirt equals money.”
“No lie,” the floral decorator quipped.
“And, by the way, the flowers are beautiful.” Simone knew she was partial to pink flowers.
Affecting a curtsey, Simone flashed a wide grin. “Thank you.” She’d just signed a contract with a well-known White Plains law firm to deliver floral arrangements for their reception area and conference rooms. She’d built a greenhouse on a portion of her property where she grew and cultivated herbs and flowers year-round. She’d grown her business, Wildflowers and Other Treasures, selling bouquets and corsages for birthdays, holidays and proms. Her involvement with Signature Bridals expanded into specialty wedding bouquets, and now she’d added her first corporate client. She set the vase of flowers on the table, glancing around the studio apartment.
“Tessa’s right. Your place does look nice.” Soft music flowed from concealed speakers, lighted lemon-scented votives and the lowest setting from the three-way bulb in the floor lamp provided a calming, subdue setting for laid-back dining pleasure. “You should be entertaining a man tonight, not your cousins,” Simone said in a quiet tone.
Faith rolled her eyes upward. “I’ve dated more men than the two of you combined, so please don’t mention entertaining a man.”
“But how many have you slept with, Faith?” Simone asked.
She lowered her gaze. “Not many.”
“How
