Zuri Day - Champagne Kisses

Donovan didn’t have to turn around to know who was approaching. Genevieve Drake had spotted them and was making the proverbial beeline for a closer examination of the woman who had held the attention of her son for longer than five minutes.

“Ah, there you are!” Genevieve Drake’s carriage was one of pride and confidence as she reached her son and stepped in for a hug. A refined-looking lady with strong, vibrant features, long black hair streaked with gray and a slim, short frame, she exuded maternal comfort even as subtle hints of fire came through. “I think Keely did a fabulous job, don’t you?”

“I do,” Donovan said, looking around and raising his glass to Dexter, his perpetual-playboy brother holding court amid a circle of lovelies on the other side of the room. “But then again, we’d expect nothing less of Kathleen’s daughter.”

“Indeed.”

Kathleen Fitzpatrick was a longtime Drake employee whose fire was less like subtle flickers and more like a burning flame. She’d begun her employ more than twenty-five years ago, working in various capacities based on need. For the past several years she’d worked in the PR and marketing department as Donovan’s sister Diamond’s assistant. Fiercely loyal and all about family, she’d been delighted when Diamond decided to hire her up-and-coming party-planner daughter for the fete to celebrate her highly talked about engagement to construction mogul Jackson “Boss” Wright. With a nod to the month and the moment, Keely’s theme had revolved around hearts, with the symbol showing up in unique and creative ways around the room: ice sculptures; ice cubes; floral centerpieces; and, Genevieve’s favorite, the keepsake candles that would go home with each guest. The color palette boasted almost every shade of red imaginable and, paired with champagne, was at once elegant and festive.

Genevieve turned to Marissa. “Hello, dear. I’m Donovan’s mother, Genevieve Drake.”

Marissa stuck out her hand. “Marissa Hayes. Mrs. Drake, it’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Genevieve reached for Marissa’s hand only to pull her in for a hug. “We hug where I’m from,” she said with a smile.

“Oh? And where’s that?”

“The South. Louisiana. What about you, dear. From where does your family hail? With that beautiful brown skin, those high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes, I’d probably lean toward the islands. Would I be wrong?”

“We all landed stateside as far as I know. I was born and raised in San Diego, ma’am, where I still live.” Marissa suppressed a smile as she felt a subtle tug on her dress. She was sure it was Donovan’s way of alerting her that Detective Genevieve’s interrogation had begun.

“And your parents, they still live in San Diego as well?”

“No. My father is a minister who a few years ago was asked to become senior pastor of a prominent church in Chicago. They live just outside the Windy City in a suburb called Naperville.”

Genevieve nodded. “I’ve heard of it, but have not been there. In fact, it’s been years since I’ve visited the Midwest, including Chicago. I do love their deep-dish pizza. Donovan, what was the name of the restaurant we visited, what, ten years ago?”

“I don’t remember, Mom. But speaking of food, Marissa and I were—”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Genevieve went on. She did a surreptitious sweep of Marissa from head to toe. “Of course, with your stunning hourglass figure, you probably stay away from such calorie-laden treats.”

“Probably not as much as I should.”

“Hmm. I must say it is wonderful to talk with someone without having to look up continually. All of my children took after their father in that regard. What are you, five-three, four?”

“Okay, Mom. Let’s not continue this round of twenty questions.”

“How else does one get to know their guests?” Genevieve asked dryly with raised brow.

Marissa chuckled. “Really, Donovan. It’s okay.” Looking at Genevieve, she continued, “I understand completely. I’m five foot four and also the shortest one in my family, not counting my cousins or my nephew, who just turned two.”

“Ha!” Genevieve’s twinkling eyes signaled how much she was enjoying the conversation. “So you have siblings.”

“A brother, who is older than me. He and his family live in Baltimore, Maryland, where his wife is from.”

Donovan cleared his throat. Marissa hid another smile behind a sip of sparkling chardonnay, a Drake Wines favorite. Genevieve barreled on determinedly. “How do you know Diamond, dear?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of really getting to know her yet. I work for Boss Wright as his executive assistant.”

“Really?” Genevieve didn’t try to hide her surprise or heightened interest. “How long have you worked for him?”

“Okay, Mom. I think that’s enough for one evening.”

“I’m simply curious that someone as beautiful as this young lady didn’t try and snap up one of the country’s most eligible bachelors for herself.” She turned still-sparkling eyes on Marissa and lowered her voice as if they were two longtime pals. “Or did you?” She winked, letting Marissa know that she was teasing, and continued talking, as if trying to get under her eldest son’s skin.

It was working.

Donovan didn’t think for one minute that his shrewd mother was joking. He believed he knew the questions his mother wasn’t asking: Had Marissa ever been interested in Jackson Wright? Had Jackson ever been interested in Marissa? Had Jackson and Marissa ever slept together? If so, why? If not, why? Was Donovan interested in Marissa? And if so, how fast could Genevieve do a background check?

“You know what they say about curiosity,” Donovan drawled, gently taking his mother’s shoulders and steering her away from Marissa. “It killed the cat.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “We’re going to check out the dessert buffet,” he offered, to keep his mother from feeling totally dismissed.

“Enjoy your evening,” Genevieve said over her shoulder to Marissa. “We’ll talk again.”

After Donovan had deposited Genevieve into the safe and capable hands of his father, Donald, he returned to where Marissa still stood. “Now you understand why I want to sample another vineyard’s wines.”

“Completely.”

“So what do you say? Inland Empire Winery, Rancho California Road, fifteen minutes?”

Marissa smiled, and gave a nod. “I’ll meet you there.”

Chapter 2

Donovan watched Marissa wind her way through the crowd and over to where Jackson and Diamond stood. Later, he’d explain to his sis and brother-in-law-to-be why he didn’t make his proper goodbyes. Diamond would understand. As with the brothers, she too had borne the brunt of Genevieve’s desire to expand the clan and bounce grandchildren on her knee as soon as possible. One would think that with Diamond’s wedding on the horizon the pressure would have lessened. Instead, her impending nuptials had created the opposite effect, especially where he was concerned.

“You’re the oldest,” Genevieve had chided the morning after Jackson proposed to Diamond. “I never thought I’d see the day where your sister beat you at anything.” Despite their competitive nature, this was one race Donovan had gladly lost to a sibling. He’d happily get beaten by Dexter, too, though hell would have probably frozen over and Armageddon made itself known before baby brother ended his Don Juan ways. In an attempt to throw off an undoubtedly still curious Genevieve from his trail, Donovan walked in the opposite direction as Marissa, joining his brother and the circle of female admirers that surrounded him. After another minute or two, he slipped out a side door, doubled back through the garden, around the infinity pool and into the parking lot. Bypassing his Mercedes—because if she noticed his car missing Detective Genevieve would undoubtedly ask what type of car Marissa owned—he walked the cobblestoned path to the company garage and settled into a company car. After retrieving the car keys that were always stowed in the overhead visor, he eased the Lexus hybrid out of the garage and was on his way.