and halfway down her back.
She made her way around the table to greet everyone with a kiss on the cheek, hug or handshake. When she made it to Nichelle’s side, she dragged a seat up to squeeze between Nichelle and Madalie.
“Why didn’t you just use your key?” Nichelle bumped Nala with her shoulder. Nala had been in the Diallos’ lives as long as she’d been in Nichelle’s, whole-heartedly welcomed into both families since she didn’t have a family of her own. Her keys to both houses were symbols of that welcome.
“I didn’t want to be rude,” Nala said.
Glendon Diallo sucked his teeth. “How long have you known us?”
Nala laughed. “Good point.”
Wolfe’s mother slid a plate and utensils in front of her. “We’re glad you could make it,” she said, squeezing Nala’s shoulder.
She thanked Hyacinth with a smile.
“I didn’t think you’d be back from Brunei so soon,” Nichelle said.
Nala grinned. “Hey, it’s free food night. You think I’d miss that?”
Nala and Nichelle met when they were both twelve years old and modeling for the same Miami-based clothing line. It wasn’t long before Nala found that she preferred being on the other side of the camera, and Nichelle realized she didn’t like any part of the business.
Nala was an orphan, a trust-fund baby whose parents had been killed in a freak shooting in Miami when she was just a toddler. She was raised by lawyers entrusted with her twelve-billion-dollar fortune until she turned twenty-one. Despite all the things she’d been through and the financial fortune that could have turned her into an unbearable person, Nala was a wonderful friend, and Nichelle felt lucky to know her. They were as different as night and day—and just as necessary to each other’s lives.
“So tell me, what did I miss?” Nala asked.
“She and Wolfe are running off to Paris together,” Kingsley, the oldest, said dryly. Nichelle frowned his way, but he only arched a teasing eyebrow then winked.
Nala giggled and looked at Nichelle. “Finally, huh?”
* * *
The dinner was wonderfully long. They spent hours lingering at the table over conversation and laughter and trading stories. As the evening stretched toward midnight, the dining room emptied and people made their way to the large family room or to the terrace overlooking the pool to share cigars and more risqué conversation.
Nichelle snuggled into the hammock at the back of the house, nearly half a bottle of merlot swimming pleasantly through her system. Nala lay on the matching hammock a few feet away, snoring softly.
Light footsteps approached from inside the house. Nichelle turned from her smiling contemplation of her friend to see Wolfe standing in the doorway. The scent of cigar smoke clung to him.
“Hey.”
He stood in the light, dress shirt unbuttoned to show the strong line of his throat, and draped perfectly over his wide chest and shoulders. He looked ready to head out on a date.
“You leaving?” she asked softly.
He looked surprised. “Why do you say that?”
She only laughed, saying nothing.
“Yes, I am.” His mouth curved in a sinful grin. “A new friend called.”
“The one who came by the office?”
“No, another one.”
She shot him a disbelieving look, then shrugged. “Just make sure you wrap it up.”
“Always.” He didn’t deny he was heading off on a booty call.
Nichelle shrugged off an unexpected twinge of unease. “Wait.” She sat up in the swaying hammock. “Are your parents asleep yet?”
He frowned. “No.”
“Then why are you leaving? I’m sure they want to sit and talk with you some more.” Although Wolfe loved his parents, he was often at work, or at play, seeing them maybe once a month tops, and sometimes not for very long. “You should stay,” she murmured. “The new booty can wait until tomorrow at least.”
She could see his eyebrow tip toward the ceiling, a considering look on his face. He was surprised by her request, she could tell.
“I’ll see,” he finally said, hands in his pockets.
Nichelle knew what that meant. “Okay.” She lay back down. “Have fun tonight, wherever you end up.”
He paused in the doorway again, shoulders broad against the light flooding from the sitting room behind him. “Good night.”
“Don’t let the strange girl bite,” she sang out to him softly.
When he left, she heard Nala stirring nearby. Her friend sat up and swung a leg on either side of the hammock.
“Is he really going to leave his parents’ house on family dinner night so he can go bang some random chick?” The disbelief was plain in Nala’s voice.
“It seems so,” Nichelle said. “He is a man, after all. I think it’s biologically impossible for him to turn down booty.” But even as she said the words, she winced. That wasn’t quite true. Wolfe was actually a lot more discriminating than that.
As if reading her mind, Nala snorted with laughter. “If he caught every piece of ass that got thrown his way, he’d never get any damn work done. Hell, he’d never eat.”
“At least not food, anyway.” Nichelle smiled and curled up in the hammock. It rocked from the movement of her body.
“Doesn’t that piss you off?” Nala asked.
“What?”
“The fact that he’s off screwing around when he could be here with you...and his parents?”
“No. Should it?”
Nala sighed. Even in the dark, Nichelle could practically see her rolling her eyes. The assumption that she and Wolfe were, or at least should be, together wasn’t limited to people in the office. Nala and just about everyone Nichelle loved rarely missed an opportunity to tease her about him, insinuating that there was a lot more going on between them than she and Wolfe were letting on. But she’d never had any romantic or sexual feelings for him. Yes, he was the most interesting of his eight brothers. But that was all. There was nothing more to her admiration than that. He was gorgeous, but there were gorgeous men all over the place, especially in Miami.
“Go back to sleep, Nala.”
Her friend cackled and flopped back down into the hammock. “And you should wake up, Nichelle. That man won’t wait around forever.”
Nichelle snorted, a bad habit she’d picked up from her best friend years ago. “The only one waiting around
