Seduced by Moonlight Page 8

  “I bet it keeps you up nights,” Harry joked.

  “All the time,” Cherisse said, “usually by singing the theme song to Hair, the musical. It likes that song.”

  Harry laughed until his stomach muscles hurt. He liked this woman.

  That night, as they were getting ready to go to dinner with Harry, Danielle was so excited she was bouncing off the walls. In the bedroom of the suite, both of them had laid their clothes out on the bed, showered, dressed in their underwear and done their hair. However, Danielle kept changing clothes. Cherisse had left the packing to her normally sensible daughter and had no idea that Danielle had brought so many outfits with her for an overnight stay.

  She had brought only the new dress she’d bought for the occasion: a beautiful royal blue wrap dress with long sleeves and a hem that fell about three inches above her knees. The soft fabric clung to her curves. She had chosen a simple black clutch and a pair of three-inch-heeled black leather Jimmy Choo sandals she’d found on sale at Shoe Emporium, her favorite place to shop for shoes.

  She’d put her hair in a French twist, which made her neck look long and elegant. And the dress revealed just the right amount of cleavage. A classy look she was reasonably sure would be suitable for dinner at Solomon’s, the resort’s five-star restaurant.

  Earlier she’d asked Harry why he had chosen the name Solomon. He told her that Solomon was his grandfather’s name. And his grandfather had been a cook in a restaurant in Louisville, Kentucky, for many years. Only a cook, he had never been able to afford his own restaurant. Solomon had died when Harry was fifteen but he said he was sure that if he had lived he would have been tickled to have a restaurant named after him.

  After Danielle changed clothes for the fourth time, Cherisse said sternly, “Danielle, the next items you put on stay on! What’s wrong with you tonight?” She looked closely at her daughter. Danielle had fashioned her braids into an upsweep hairdo and was wearing only a black bra and bikini panties.

  She met her mother’s eyes, but quickly lowered her gaze again. “I met a boy on the slopes today and he said he’d see me at dinner. He’s here with his family. They’re from D.C., Ma. His dad works in government and his mom’s a lawyer.”

  Danielle walked over to her purse, which she’d left hanging by its strap on the back of the wooden slat-back chair sitting beside the closet door. Getting her cell phone, she opened it and clicked on the photo function. She showed her mother a photo of her and a tall African-American boy, both in ski gear, standing in front of the lift. He was a good-looking kid with dark brown skin, dimples and the best set of sparkling white teeth Cherisse had seen in a long time.

  “His name’s Dante Winters,” Danielle told her mother.

  “How old is he?”

  “He just turned eighteen and he’s a senior in high school, too.”

  “Wear the forest-green dress, Danielle,” Cherisse said. “It looks good on you and if Dante gets up the nerve to come over to the table and say hello, stains won’t show on it when you drop something in your lap.”

  “Aw, Ma,” Danielle cried, laughing softly.

  “Silly, huh?” asked her mother. “It’s also silly for you to be nervous about seeing Dante tonight. You’ve got a boyfriend.”

  Danielle really laughed then. “You mean Echo? If it were left up to Echo asking me I would go to the senior prom alone.”

  “The senior prom isn’t until May. A lot can happen in six months. And if Echo means nothing to you, who are you text-messaging thirty times a day?”

  “He’s the worst gossip in school,” Danielle complained.

  “Have you told him everything about your day?” Cherisse asked, curious.

  “Everything except about meeting Dante,” Danielle confessed.

  “Why didn’t you tell him about Dante?”

  “Because it’s none of his business,” said Danielle, her tone less confident than her words were meant to be.

  Cherisse shook her head. “No, you didn’t tell him because you weren’t sure how he would take it. How many guys have you been interested in since you and Echo have been hanging out together? How many guys have shown an interest in you?”

  “None,” was Danielle’s reply.

  “Doesn’t that tell you something? You’re always with Echo so the other guys at school assume you two are an item. A situation that Echo is probably enjoying if, in fact, he has designs on you.”

  Danielle, frowning, began texting a message to Echo. When she finished she said, “Let’s see how long it takes him to answer.”

  “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him I met a cute boy today, isn’t that fabulous!” Danielle’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She set the phone on the bureau top while she went to finish dressing.

  Cherisse sighed and walked over to the bed to pick up her dress. She wore a beige lacy bra with matching panties and a silky slip, less because she thought the dress was see-through than for added warmth. She didn’t plan on going outside tonight, but who knew? She might be tempted to step onto the balcony for a few minutes of fresh air.

  She put on the dress and went to stand in front of the full-length mirror next to the closet entrance. Turning around, observing the backs of her legs, she was satisfied that she’d moisturized enough. Ashy skin was a symptom of these cold climes.

  She’d slathered a light-scented lotion all over her body. Her golden-brown skin had a healthy glow to it. Smiling, she wondered if Harry were taking care with his dress this evening, as well. He appeared to be so confident that he would probably feel comfortable in anything. Although, to be honest, every time she had seen him he had been beautifully dressed. But did he agonize over what to wear? She doubted it.

  A continuous beep, denoting that Danielle had a text message, resounded in the bedroom. Danielle quickly picked up the phone and began reading. “What’s so fabulous about it?” Of course she was translating the shortened version of the English language that text aficionados used.

  Soon, she and Echo were furiously text-messaging each other, her thumbs flying over the tiny keyboard.

  Smiling, Cherisse left her daughter alone in the bedroom while she went into the living room of the suite to await Harry’s arrival.

  She wondered if years from now millions of teenagers would have deformed thumbs from all the wear and tear on them due to text-messaging.

  Cherisse walked over to the big picture window and looked out at the lit-up resort. Even at night the resort was beautiful, an architectural dream with its turrets and other decorative flourishes reminiscent of a Swiss palace.

  On her walk with Harry today she had noticed his gardeners had landscaped the resort’s many gardens with plants and flowers native to this area, hardy varieties that thrived in cold weather. Cherisse was sure if her mother were here she would be able to tell her every name of every species of plant, but Cherisse was ignorant of such things. Like Danielle, her mother was going to love it here when she got the chance to visit.

  A twinge of doubt suddenly wormed its way into her thoughts. She had never been happy to accept extravagant gifts from anyone. What Harry was offering to do for Danielle would cost him a lot of money. Letting her stay here and practice her skiing whenever she wanted to. Paying her travel expenses and for her ski gear: clothing and equipment. And all Danielle would have to do to repay his generosity was to wear his company’s logo on the back of her jacket.

  Stop it, Cherisse, she told herself. This is how the sports world works and Danielle is lucky to have somebody like Harry Payne backing her. Her logical mind told her she was right. Still, she hated being beholden to anybody.

  Danielle entered, laughing. “Ma, you were right!”

  Cherisse turned to face her daughter. Danielle was wearing the forest-green empire waist dress with a pair of black ankle boots. She looked as if she’d stepped off the cover of Vibe! The dress was modest, its bodice revealing no cleavage at all, and because of the manner in which it was designed it hung straight
on her curvaceous body, but didn’t display any of those curves. That was the dress’s best feature as far as her mother was concerned.

  It revealed her shapely legs to all and sundry, though. And because she was five-nine, her legs went on and on.

  Looking her lovely daughter over, Cherisse sighed. She was already a woman. As her mother, she had to face up to that fact, but she was going to hang on to the illusion of Danielle still being her little girl for as long as she could.

  “What did he say when you told him you’d met someone?”

  “He wanted to know everything about him,” Danielle said, smiling. “So I sent him the photo I showed you. After that, he said Dante looks older than he said he was. I should be careful. He might be one of those perverts who pose as younger guys to get close to teenaged girls. I told him I was pretty confident that Dante was eighteen like he said he was. Echo wrote back that if I couldn’t be trusted to use common sense he would have to come up here and run interference. He made me promise not to be alone with Dante! Ma, Echo’s not gay!”

  Cherisse gave her daughter a confused look.

  “You thought he was gay?”

  “Well, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, but I thought you never suspected.”

  “Come on, Ma. He cooks, sews and knows every musical that ever appeared on Broadway practically word for word. Either he was gay or very strange for a straight guy. Now I know he’s just strange.”

  “And that comforts you?” her mother asked, amused.

  “Ma, half the kids at school are strange in some way. It comes from trying to find out where we belong in the great scheme of things. There are a lot of neuroses floating around the halls of my school. I can work with strange but not gay. If Echo turned out to be gay there was no chance for us.”

  There came a knock at the door.

  “That’s Harry,” Cherisse announced. She started walking to the door.

  “No,” cried Danielle, “let me get the door. You’re supposed to make an entrance.”

  “You’ve been reading too many romance novels,” her mother accused lightly.

  “And you haven’t been reading enough,” Danielle countered, hurrying to the door. “For once, listen to me. And when you come into the room, watch Harry’s eyes.”

  Shaking her head, Cherisse decided to let her daughter conduct her experiment. She went into the bedroom to get her purse.

  When she walked back out, Harry was sitting on the couch laughing at something Danielle had said. He looked up and the laughter died in his throat.

  Rising, his eyes possessively raked over Cherisse. Crossing the room to her, he suddenly found his voice again. Keeping his words low, and personal, for Cherisse’s ears only, he whispered, “Damn, you’re beautiful!”

  Cherisse was beaming. Beautiful, he’d said, and he was standing there looking so devastatingly handsome in his dark blue suit that he took her breath away. This wasn’t working out the way she had figured. She was supposed to come here with Danielle in order for her to meet her sponsor. Not to meet a man who would leave her trembling with desire. This wasn’t the right time for her and Harry Payne.

  Still, she couldn’t resist saying, breathlessly, “Not half as much as you are.” After she’d said it she wondered where that sexy tone had come from.

  Harry just smiled at her and offered her his arm. “Shall we go?”

  Chapter 7

  While they were leisurely strolling through the lobby on the way to Solomon’s Danielle couldn’t help noticing the funky beat of hip-hop in the air.

  “What’s that?” she turned around and asked Harry, who was walking beside her mother a couple of paces behind her.

  “That’s coming from the ballroom where the youth dance is held,” Harry said. “What you hear is the DJ warming up. The dance starts at eight and lasts until around midnight. It’s a Saturday night staple around here. It’s kind of a multimedia event. The DJ plays lots of songs that also have videos, and while he’s spinning the disc, the video is playing on a wide screen set on the wall. No alcoholic drinks are served.”

  “May I go check it out after dinner?” Danielle asked Cherisse, her tone not quite pleading, but promising full pleading mode if she got a negative reply.

  “Alone?” Cherisse countered. “No. You know the rules.”

  Danielle started to say something, saw the warning expression in her mother’s eyes and thought better of it. Earlier when she had ignored that look she had done it out of an unselfish desire to get her mother and Harry alone. This time she knew she was asking her mother to let her break a rule she had never let her get away with before: no going to dances without a suitable companion who would look out for her.

  She therefore let it go and resolved to have a good time at dinner.

  Once they arrived at Solomon’s, Danielle noticed that several diners watched them cross the room to their table in the beautifully decorated and subtly lit restaurant. She supposed that was because of Harry. Like the captain of a ship, as the owner of the resort, many people knew him and were curious to see whom he seated at his table.

  She and her mom had gone on a cruise a couple years ago and the captain had asked them to dine with him because her mother had saved another passenger from choking on a shrimp by using the Heimlich maneuver.

  Harry helped her and her mother into their chairs, then he sat down between them and in less than a minute, a waiter came over with iced water and a basket of fresh baked rolls with freshly whipped butter mixed with raspberries. He then left them to peruse the menu.

  Danielle was ravenous and dug right in while her mother and Harry seemed to find something to talk about in lowered voices. She didn’t even try to eavesdrop since she was enjoying the delicious, flaky rolls so much.

  She didn’t know it, but Harry was quietly pleading her case with her mother. “I can get someone on the staff to escort her to the dance. She’d be perfectly safe,” he said.

  “That’s nice of you, Harry, but I’d rather not allow Danielle to monopolize more of your staff’s time. I’m sure they have better things to do than babysit her.”

  Harry had an ulterior motive: he wanted to be alone with Cheri. He had very little time left to convince her to go out with him. To state his case, he needed privacy.

  Ah, well, maybe he could get her alone on the dance floor after dinner. Solomon’s had a live band each Saturday night. The Delacroix Brothers, a jazz quartet from New Orleans, were playing tonight.

  Harry leaned back in his chair and picked up his menu. He didn’t really need to look at it. He knew what was on it like the back of his hand. “All right,” he said to Cherisse’s decision. Then he added “Solomon’s offers a wide range of delicacies. The chef, Annette Bourne, was trained in Paris. Although she is southern born and while the menu leans toward French cuisine, it is more the French of the French Quarter in New Orleans than the French of Paris.”

  Cherisse was reading the menu. She loved seafood and saw an item that caught her attention. “I can’t believe there’s cioppino on the menu. I haven’t had that in years. I’d like that with a glass of white wine.”

  “Then cioppino, it is,” said Harry. He was fond of the fish stew himself. It was light and wouldn’t leave one’s breath smelling fishy. But he decided on the roast chicken.

  “What looks good to you?” Cherisse asked Danielle, not looking up from the menu.

  Danielle was busy smiling at Dante Winters, who had just walked in with his parents.

  He had apparently asked his parents to go over to their table to meet her and her mother because they were headed straight for their table. Danielle hastily wiped her mouth and fingers on the linen napkin at her elbow, afraid that she’d gotten some raspberry butter or bread crumbs on them.

  When Dante and his parents arrived, Dante said, “Hello, Danielle.” Out of his ski gear he looked even more fit. He wore a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck sweater with a pair of black motorcycle boots, which Danielle thought were very coo
l. His father, a tall, dark-skinned gentleman in a black tuxedo, obviously enjoyed dressing up for the evening. No less than his wife, a beautifully dressed woman with café-au-lait skin and black hair that she wore in a short, sophisticated bob. Dante was at least six feet tall. His father was perhaps an inch taller, and his mother was a petite five-three, Danielle guessed.

  Danielle got to her feet, as did her mother and Harry. “Hi, Dante,” she said, a warm smile on her lips.

  Dante graciously introduced her to his parents. “This is the young lady I was telling you about,” he said to them. Then he regarded Danielle. “This is my dad, Davis Winters and my mom, Eva Stanton-Winters.”

  Danielle, always a charmer, said, “I’m pleased to meet you.” She briefly shook both their hands. And then it was her turn to introduce her mother. “And this is my mom, Ms. Cherisse Washington. I suppose you all know our host, Mr. Payne.”

  “A pleasure, Ms. Washington,” Eva said, shaking hands with Cherisse.

  “The pleasure’s all mine,” Cherisse said with a welcoming smile.

  Mr. Winters shook her hand, as well, and then declared, “Yes, everybody knows Harry. How are you, Harry? You know you still owe me a golf game.”

  “I haven’t forgotten,” said Harry. “How about an eight o’clock tee time tomorrow morning?”

  “Sounds good,” said Davis Winters. And they shook on it. “Well, we’d better get to our table. Enjoy your evening, folks.”

  Dante wasn’t ready to go yet, though. “Danielle,” he said, “would you go to the dance with me tonight? Last Saturday, our first day here, I had to walk into that room alone and I really don’t want to do it again.” He grinned ingratiatingly.