that you’re the man they all want to be. You are one of the most influential and wealthiest men in the world, Micah. Baby, you should flaunt it.”
All Micah wanted to do was get inside the hotel. He hated walking the red carpet and avoided it whenever he could. Of course, in his business one needed the media to be successful.
Grinning, Sunni posed for more photos along the red carpet. She loved the spotlight so much so that it was rumored she called or texted photographers her itinerary from time to time.
Once inside, they were still under the microscope as members of the media scoured the Pacific Ballroom in search of the Hollywood elite and other VIPs attending the charity benefit for the Sickle Cell Disease Association.
Micah sat at a table surrounded by people from his artists and repertoire (A&R), publicity and product development departments.
They dined on a three-course meal: baby leaf lettuce with marinated artichoke hearts and wedged Roma tomatoes and Dijon vinaigrette, breast of Mediterranean chicken served with sautéed artichokes, goat cheese mashed potatoes and herbed Italian vegetables, mascarpone caramel cake for dessert.
One of the groups from his label walked on stage to perform.
“Eden sounds great tonight,” Sunni stated as she sliced off a piece of chicken and stuck it into his mouth.
Micah wiped his mouth with the edge of his napkin. “Yeah, she does,” he agreed, silently wishing that he could’ve stayed home tonight.
He stood up and smiled politely when his generous donation was acknowledged along with a long thundering applause.
Sunni reached over and took his hand. “I still can’t believe how shy you are when it comes to stuff like this. Honey, you are one of the good guys,” she stated. “You should be walking around here with your head up high.”
He gave her a narrowed glinting glance. “You know how I feel about being in the public eye, Sunni. I don’t like being under a microscope.”
“You’re the CEO of a huge conglomerate, Micah,” she responded, rising finely arched eyebrows. “You’d better get used to this because it’s not going to go away.”
Sunni took a sip of her hot tea.
Thirty minutes later, they left the ballroom. He had put in an appearance so as far as Micah was concerned, his work was done. He had a long day ahead of him and wanted to get some rest.
Micah escorted Sunni out of the hotel.
The driver brought their limo around, promptly stepped out and walked around to open the door.
“Micah, why don’t we go back to your place?” she suggested with a seductive sparkle in her eye. “I’m not ready for the evening to end.” She wound her arms inside his jacket and around his back.
Micah gave her a polite smile and resisted the urge to pull away. He knew Sunni wanted the media to photograph them in an embrace. She enjoyed being featured in gossip magazines and felt it enhanced her career.
“Sunni, it’s late and I have a busy day tomorrow. I don’t have any plans this weekend—maybe we can do something then.”
“I’d love it. I haven’t seen much of you lately.”
He kissed her gently on the cheek. “We’ll do something special then.”
Sunni pulled him closer to her. “C’mere, I want a real kiss.”
“I don’t put on shows for the media,” Micah stated. “You know that.”
He ushered Sunni quickly into the car as paparazzi appeared out of nowhere, snapping pictures of them.
“How long have the two of you been dating, Micah?” someone shouted.
“Are you and Sunni thinking about marriage?” another yelled. “C’mon, give us the scoop.”
Micah held up his hands in mock resignation. “I’m afraid there’s nothing to tell. Have a good evening, everyone.” He got into the car and the driver closed the door in haste.
“What are we doing?” Sunni asked when the car pulled away from the curb, merging with the traffic.
Micah did not want to have this conversation. He and Sunni had been spending time together for the past four or five months. She was stunning and he enjoyed her company, but Micah knew she had an agenda. She wanted a husband.
A rich husband.
It was not that he was opposed to marriage because he didn’t want to marry. He wasn’t in love with Sunni, which is why he hadn’t taken their platonic relationship to the next level.
Sunni ran a French-manicured finger along his thigh. “Micah, you know how I feel about you. We are so good together. Why can’t you see that? You need a woman like me as your wife.”
He gave her an indulgent smile. “That’s why we’re such good friends.”
“Micah, tell me, who did this to you?” Sunni asked.
Surprised by her question, he questioned, “Did what?”
“Hurt you,” she responded. “Who broke your heart? That’s the only reason I can think of that will explain why you keep this huge wall between us.”
Micah did not respond.
“Well, whoever she is, she really did a number on you.” Sunni ran a finger down his cheek. “I am a very patient woman, Micah. One day you’ll see that I’m not here to cause you pain. If you give me the chance, I’d make you a very happy man.”
He smiled. “I’m glad to have you in my life, Sunni. You are a very dear friend to me.”
“There’s that friend word again,” she said with a mock sigh.
Micah laughed.
The limo slowed to a stop in front of her building.
“Will you give me a call tomorrow?” Sunni asked before stepping out of the car. “I know you talked about us getting together this weekend, but maybe we can meet for dinner. You still have to eat, you know?”
He nodded. “That’s fine.”
Micah stepped out of the car and walked Sunni to the door of her home. He kissed her cheek before saying good-night.
“It would’ve been,” Sunni responded with a wink. “But it’s your loss, honey. I would’ve rocked your world.”
Micah chuckled. “I’m sure you would have.”
She gave him a hug and then sauntered into the building, pausing briefly to speak to the man at the security desk.
Micah returned to the waiting limo.
Sunni was a nice girl and he enjoyed her companionship, but Micah had not fully opened his heart to another person since college. He didn’t relish the thought of going home to an empty bed but cared too much to use Sunni in that way. Micah knew he would never give her what she was looking for.
One heartbreak was more than enough for him.
Tamara entered Sylvia’s Restaurant looking for her Pi Beta Gamma soror, Kyra Dixon. She was running late for their lunch date due to a traffic accident on Washington Street S.W. near Memorial Drive.
Kyra was already seated at a table when Tamara entered the restaurant. She waved to get her attention.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Tamara stated as she sat down in the chair across from her friend. “Have you ordered yet?”
“Not yet.”
A waiter arrived minutes later prepared to take their orders.
“So how was your sister’s wedding?” Kyra inquired after he left.
“Beautiful,” Tamara