we would have to come face-to-face with each other one of these days.” She couldn’t predict what Myles’s reaction would be to seeing her again, but she was certain he would find her a very different woman from the one who’d pledged to love him forever.
The two women talked about old friends, jokes they’d played on former classmates and the boys they’d had crushes on but who hadn’t given them a single glance. They talked about everything except the loss of their loved ones—Belinda’s sister and brother-in-law and Zabrina’s parents.
Both declined dessert and coffee. “Who’s your maid of honor?” Zabrina asked.
Belinda wanted to tell Zabrina she would’ve been her matron of honor if she had married Myles. “Chandra. She’s scheduled to fly in Monday, because she has to be fitted for her dress.” Belinda’s sister had joined the Peace Corps and was currently teaching in Belize. “My cousin Denise will be my other attendant. Myles will stand in as Griffin’s best man and Keith Ennis will be a groomsman.”
With wide eyes, Zabrina whispered, “Baseball player Keith Ennis?”
Belinda smiled. “Yes. He’s one of Griffin’s clients.” Her fiancé was the lawyer for half a dozen superstar athletes.
“It looks as if you’re going to have quite the celebrity wedding.”
“All I want is for it to be over, so that my life can return to normal.”
“Are you going on a honeymoon?” Zabrina asked.
“Yes. We’re going to spend two weeks at a private villa on St. Kitts. I plan to sleep late, take in the sun and eat and drink until I can’t move.”
Zabrina smiled again, then her smile vanished when she spied the man she hadn’t expected to see until Belinda’s wedding. Myles Adam Eaton had walked into the restaurant with a beautiful, petite dark-skinned woman with her hand draped possessively over the sleeve of his suit jacket. Myles immediately glanced in her direction. Their eyes met, recognition dawned and then the moment passed when he dipped his head to listen to something the woman was saying. To say time had been kind to Myles was an understatement. Quickly averting her gaze so Belinda wouldn’t see what had gotten her attention, she signaled for the waiter.
“I’ll take the check please.”
Zabrina silently applauded herself for becoming quite the accomplished actress. It’d taken a decade of smiling when she hadn’t wanted to smile, uttering the appropriate phrases and responses when attending political events, even though she’d wanted to spew expletives. She didn’t know if the woman on Myles’s arm was his wife, fiancée or date for the evening, but it didn’t matter. Zabrina didn’t ever expect to become Mrs. Myles Eaton. Having his son was her consolation for having to give him up.
“I told you I was treating tonight,” Belinda said between clenched teeth.
Zabrina took the leather binder from the waiter. “You can treat the next time.”
She didn’t tell Belinda that with all of Thomas Cooper’s so-called political and legal savvy he’d neglected to draw up a will, and she’d inherited a multimillion-dollar home, which she’d promptly sold, and investments of which she’d had no previous knowledge. She’d sold the shares before Wall Street bottomed out and deposited the proceeds into an account for her son’s education. Becoming a wealthy woman was a huge price to pay for having to give up the man she loved while denying her son his birthright.
Zabrina settled the bill, pushed back her chair and walked out of the restaurant, Belinda following, without glancing over to where Myles sat with his dinner date. She waited with Belinda for the parking attendants to retrieve their cars from valet parking. Her car arrived first.
She hugged her childhood friend. “I’ll see you next week.”
“Next week,” Belinda repeated.
Zabrina got into her late-model Lincoln sedan and maneuvered out of the restaurant parking lot. She hadn’t realized her hands were shaking until she stopped for a red light. She closed her eyes, inhaling a lungful of cool air flowing from the automobile’s air conditioner. When she opened her eyes the light had changed and she was back in control.
Myles Eaton pretended to be interested in the menu on the table in front of him to avoid staring at the table where Zabrina Mixon and his sister had been. A wry smile touched his mouth. He’d forgotten. She was no longer a Mixon. She was now Zabrina Cooper.
As an attorney and professor of constitutional law, he’d memorized countless Supreme Court decisions, yet he had not, could not, did not want to remember the dozen words that had turned his world upside down.
His fiancée, the woman to whom he’d pledged his life and his future had waited until two weeks before they were to be married to call and tell him she couldn’t marry him because she was in love with another man. And when he’d discovered the “other man” was none other than Thomas Cooper, his rage had escalated until he realized he had to leave Philadelphia or spend the rest of his life obsessing about the woman who’d broken his heart.
Thomas Cooper used every opportunity to parade and flaunt his much younger wife. Myles could still recall the photographs of a very pregnant Zabrina with the councilman’s hand splayed over her swollen belly at a fundraiser. Then there was the official family photograph with the haunted look in Zabrina’s eyes when she’d stared directly into the camera lens. There were rumors that she’d been afflicted with chronic postpartum depression, while others hinted that marital problems had beset the Coopers and they were seeing a marriage counselor.
All of the rumors ended for Myles when he requested and was granted a transfer to work out of the law firm’s New York office. Adjusting to the faster pace of New York had been the balm he needed to start over. The cramped studio apartment was a far cry from his spacious condo. But that hadn’t been important, because most nights when he came home after putting in a fourteen-hour day he’d shower and fall into bed, then get up and do it all over again.
He’d given New York City eight years of his life before he decided he didn’t want to practice law, but teach it. He contacted a former professor who told him of an opening at his law-school alma mater. He applied for the position, went through the interview process and when he received the letter of appointment to teach constitutional law at Duquesne’s law school in Pittsburgh, he finally found peace.
“What are you having, Myles?”
His head jerked up and he smiled at the woman who’d become his law-school mentor. Judge Stacey Greer-Monroe had graduated from high school at fifteen, college at eighteen and law school two months after her twenty-first birthday. Myles thought Stacey was one of the most brilliant legal minds he’d ever encountered, including his professors.
“I think I’m going to order the crab cakes.”
“What’s the matter, Professor Eaton? You can’t get good crab cakes in Steel City?” Stacey joked.
His smile grew wider. “I get the best Maryland-style crab cakes west of the Alleghenies at a little restaurant owned by a woman who moved from Baltimore. Sadie G’s has become my favorite eating place.”
Stacey lowered her gaze rather than stare openly at the man she’d tried unsuccessfully to get to think of her as more than a friend. But their every encounter ended with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. After he was jilted by his fiancée Myles continued to regard Stacey as friend and peer. Their relationship remained the same after he’d moved to New York and then Pittsburgh when they communicated with each other online.
Stacey’s hopes of becoming Mrs. Myles Eaton ended when her biological clock began winding down and she married a neurosurgeon she’d dated off and on for years. She was now the mother of a two-year-old daughter.
“So, you’re really serious about putting down roots in Pittsburgh?”
Myles’s dark eyebrows framed his eyes in a lean mahogany-brown angular face that once seen wasn’t easily forgotten. “I’ve