Black Butterfly Page 8

“Wait,” Nolen said, halting them.

  The girls looked back at him. He focused on Sydney. “I have friends in the police department. What borough is she in?”

  “Nolen, we’re ready to go over the contracts,” Xenia called from the studio seats.

  He, however, continued to stare at Sydney. “Are you going to turn down help for your friend just to spite me?”

  “Why do you keep offering these favors? I mean, seriously, I’m not going to sleep with you!” she shot back in a hushed tone.

  “Sydney! That’s rude!” Trish said, frowning at her.

  Sydney looked from Nolen to Xenia, who was close to marching over and snatching him away. “I don’t want any trouble around here. I already have enough, and that’s all your attention is bringing me.”

  “Hear me out,” he said. “You may be able to go to your friends and raise the bail money, but the charges won’t be lifted. Whoever this person is, do you want her stuck with these charges? Let me help you make it go away.”

  “You don’t even know what she’s charged with, or whether she’s guilty or innocent. Why would you use your influence to help her?”

  “For you.”

  “Exactly. So I can be indebted to you? No thanks!” She grabbed her friend’s hand to leave.

  “Sydney, stop fighting me. There are no strings. Your friend can benefit from my connections.” Trish pulled her hand away. “He’s right. Portia can’t have a record. It just won’t look good. Please, Sydney, let him help us!”

  Sydney sighed and glanced back over her shoulder. Trish gave Nolen the details of where Portia was.

  Sydney however, kept glancing back to see if Ms. Minetti watched. She did. Giving up when Nolen said he had contacts at that station, she faced off with him again. “We’ll pay you back every dime. You can have it deducted from my check.”

  Nolen smiled. “There will be no bond, trust me. Now can we take care of this or not?” he asked. His hand extended toward the exit sign.

  Sydney walked to the door with Trish behind her and Nolen following. Together they stepped out into the cold, and were ushered to his limousine.

  “What’s your friend’s name?” Nolen asked, pulling out his cell phone.

  “Portia Sanchez,” they answered together.

  Sydney watched him closely. He seemed aware, as he punched in the number and asked for someone directly.

  “Jim?”

  Jim O’Leary was the Chief of Police and a close friend.

  “Nolen? What can I do you for? This can’t be a social call. St. Patty’s Day isn’t for another month or so,” Jim said and chuckled.

  Nolen half smirked, keeping his voice low. “How goes it?”

  “Same. You know how it is. Two girls in college and a mortgage that won’t go away. So what do you need this time?”

  “Portia Sanchez. She’s in holding.” Nolen’s eyes returned to Sydney as he spoke.

  “Oh, yeah. Todd’s pretty pissed about this one.”

  “Pissed?”

  “Apparently she’s one of his model broads who flipped out after he banged her,” the chief said dismissively. “He’s also nursing a pretty bad head wound from her little tantrum. I think this one gave as good as she got.”

  “I want her released. I’m on my way to pick her up,” he said with a clenched jaw. He looked back over at Sydney, who gave him a grateful smile. “None of it on her record. Can you make sure of it?”

  “And what about Todd? He actually had me drum up some additional charges.”

  “I’ll take care of him. Just do it,” Nolen said, closing the phone. He smiled. “It’s all settled. She’s being released as we speak.”

  Sydney wasn’t so easily convinced. He caught the skepticism in her stare.

  “What was it that had you so concerned on the phone?” she asked.

  Nolen shrugged. “Seems your friend attacked a photographer. Guess I didn’t expect that to be the case.” Trish gasped. “A photographer? What’s wrong with her?”

  “I don’t know. I’m beginning to wonder that about all of us,” Sydney said with an eye roll.

  “You know what, Sydney, I’m so proud of you. I loved the way you danced. I saw that you got the part in the show,” Trish said, she wiped at the corner of her eyes.

  “Thanks, Trish. That means a lot.”

  “You deserve it,” Nolen added with a wink. The limo stopped in front of the police station and Nolen led the way inside.

  Trish leaned over to whisper in Sydney’s ear. “He’s nice.”

  “Nice?”

  “He’s helping Portia. He didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, but why would a man like him even bother?” Sydney asked with an impatient sigh.

  Nolen’s kindness frustrated her, especially with her inability to detangle herself from him. She stared after him. His shoulders were a yard wide, filling his cashmere trench. He walked with such an air of confidence that people actually stepped out of his way. A woman like Ms. Minetti would definitely keep time with such a man. She secretly let herself wonder what it meant to be her, and truly be the object of more than just a man’s desire.

  Sydney’s gaze left their hero to sweep around the station, concerned about her friend as they passed by hookers, drug addicts, and vagrants. She spotted Portia seated in the police chief’s office. Her head was low.

  Her long curls covered her face. She and Trish pushed past Nolen and rushed inside.

  “Portia!” they said in unison, causing their friend to look up through tangles and tears. The trio embraced.

  Nolen walked in with his hands buried deep in his pockets, parting the folds to his black coat. He gave the chief a knowing look, and then returned his attention to the girls. “Ladies, are we ready?” Portia’s head slowly lifted at the sound of his voice. She froze and recognition darkened her face to an angry shade of pink. “What’s he doing here?”

  “He bailed you out,” Trish volunteered in an overly cheery voice.

  Portia turned on Sydney. “What did you do for him to bail me out?” The question stung. Even now Portia had the power to make an ugly situation uglier. “What is that supposed to mean?” Sydney demanded.

  “You heard me! Did you let that scum touch you? They don’t do it for free, you know!” She glared at the rich man she’d ogled over in magazines. “Do you? Nothing’s for free, right?”

  “Stop it, Portia, you’re embarrassing us,” Trish said, taking her hand.

  Portia snatched it away and turned on Sydney. “Well, did you?” she demanded, her bottom lip quivered.

  Seeing how tortured her friend was, Sydney stroked her face. “Let’s just go home, ok?” Trish rubbed Portia’s back. “Mr. Adams gave us a ride, and he bailed you out. Sydney didn’t do anything.”

  Portia chose to cling to Sydney. “You were right. I’m an idiot. I’m so stupid, so stupid.” The chief came around the desk with a large manila envelope and handed it to Portia. “All of the charges have been dropped. Don’t let me see you here again,” he said sternly.

  Trish accepted the envelope. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Jim, call Annemarie. She has something for you,” Nolen said, holding the door for the girls.

  “Will do.” Jim smirked as the door closed behind them.

  Portia kept her gaze lowered most of the way through the station. Sydney assumed she was too embarrassed to look at anyone. When they got outside, the sun was setting and the limo driver was holding the door open for them. “Sydney, let’s take the train,” she said.

  Sydney rubbed her shoulder. “No. You’re in no condition to ride the subway. We need to get you home now,” she said, gently she pushed Portia into the car.

  “Portia, what happened?” Trish asked.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” Portia said, her face buried against Sydney’s shoulder. They rode side by side, sitting across from Nolen and Trish in the back of the limo. Portia’s long curls blocked her face from Nolen’s view, but Sydney noticed the jud
gmental stare he gave her, and she didn’t like it.

  “Thank you, Mr. Adams, for everything,” Trish said.

  Nolen gave her a warm smile. “You’re welcome, Trish.”

  “Yes. Thank you very much,” Sydney repeated.

  He looked into her eyes and she knew he expected more. Half an hour later they arrived at their place.

  Trish exited the vehicle, and then reached back to help Portia out.

  “Sydney, do you mind? I’d like to talk to you,” Nolen said, touching her hand before she followed her friends.

  Portia stuck her head back in the car. “Come on, Sydney.”

  “I won’t hurt her. I just want to talk. If that’s ok?”

  Trish touched Portia’s arm. “Sydney’s ok. She got the part. He’s her boss.”

  “If you aren’t upstairs in ten minutes, I’m coming for you,” Portia said, addressing Sydney, but glaring at Nolen.

  Sydney gave them a reassuring nod, and the girls left with the driver closing the door.

  “You three seem pretty close,” Nolen said.

  “They’re like sisters to me,”

  “And who are Ricky and Syl?”

  Sydney blinked at him in surprise. “What business is that of yours?” Taking a deep breath, he tried another tactic. “I keep saying all the wrong things to you.”

  “That’s because you aren’t being genuine with me. You’re trying to manipulate me.”

  “Is that what you think?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because of my birthday gift?”

  “Because of your girlfriend,” Sydney shot back.

  Now this he found interesting. Girlfriend? Whatever put such a foolish idea in her head? “Oh, you think Xenia is my girlfriend?”

  “I think that she thinks so too.”

  Nolen nodded. “We’ve had a friendship for about a year, but she’s by no means my girlfriend.”

  “Hey, whatever you say.”

  “So which one is it?”

  “Which one of what?”

  “Ricky or Syl? Which one’s your boyfriend?”

  Sydney swallowed her smile. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you? What do you want from me, Mr. Adams?”

  “First, for you to stop calling me Mr. Adams. I thought we were past that by now.”

  “So if I address you by Nolen or Adams, will you stop trying to seduce me?” Nolen's smile sparkled in his eyes. Sydney understood him more than he thought. “You think that this is my attempt at a seduction?” he asked, leaning forward in his seat as if to study her face more closely. “I haven’t even tried to seduce you yet.”

  “So is that what you want from me? Sex?”

  “I’d be lying if I said the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. How about you?” Sydney laughed at his audacity. “No, I’m not consumed with thoughts of sleeping with anyone, let alone an arrogant egomaniac like you.”

  Nolen smiled devilishly at her remark, flattered instead of insulted. “So you don’t like sex?”

  “Ok, this conversation is over!” she said, reaching for her purse. “I’m done.”

  “What are you afraid of? I’m curious.”

  Sydney’s hand gripped the door handle, but she stopped and looked back into his eyes. “Just because I don’t want to sleep with the executive producer of my show doesn’t mean that I’m afraid. I think it means I’m smart.”

  “Then why do you run away every time we have a direct conversation?” Sitting back, she put down her purse. “I haven’t had a direct conversation with you yet. You talk in code.

  It wasn’t until just now that you made your intentions clear.”

  “I didn’t make my intentions clear. I simply said that sex with you had crossed my mind.”

  “You’re smooth,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll give you that.”

  “And you’re a lot tougher than I initially thought. I like that.” Sydney smiled. “So you respond to a challenge. Now I understand.”

  “Understand?”

  “Yes. My refusals got your attention. What happens if I give in? Will I suffer the same fate as Portia?” Nolen blinked in surprise. “If you’ve done your homework on me, Nolen, then you should know that I’m not from a big city. I don’t have an ounce of hustler blood running through my veins. That’s right, I sleep well at night. I won’t sacrifice any of my principles because of this attraction we share.” He moistened his lips. “So you admit that you’re attracted to me.”

  “Miss Piggy would dump Kermit if she got a look at you. But you know that already, don’t you? Wait a minute. I remember! I think you once said, and correct me if I’m wrong, ‘I love women. I enjoy all kinds of women and never tire of them. As for my finding that special one, there’s no need. Every time I meet one, she’s special to me.’”

  Nolen’s laughter filled the limo, and she gave a triumphant smile, having proven her point.

  “So let me get this straight. Because I love women, I’m unprincipled?”

  “No. Because you believe that women exist for your entertainment, you’re unprincipled.”

  “Humph, that’s pretty good, Sydney.”

  “Thank you.”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “If you were me, and one day you woke up with everything you ever wanted, then to discover those wants had changed, what would you do? Would you be brave enough to test fate, even if it’s not part of the master plan?”

  “Master plan?” she asked.

  “Oh, you know, the master plan. The one we make for ourselves. The one we’re never to deviate from. I saw you, Sydney, not the person that everyone knows. I saw you—daddy’s little girl out to prove him wrong.” Sydney’s breath caught at the statement. She exhaled with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know what you think you saw.”

  “I saw your courage and your weakness. In the bathroom when the pain in your foot was so bad you didn’t know if you’d pull it off. You’re a survivor, Sydney, just like me. I respect that.” Sydney stared at him, unable to respond.

  “I can’t change who or what I am,” he continued, “and I wouldn’t, even if you asked me to. But you aren’t asking me to, are you, Sydney? Part of you likes the forbidden pursuit. Let me be clear. I don’t think that our differences should prevent me from getting to know you.”

  “You own Minetti’s production. There are a million reasons why I can’t date you.”

  “And if I withdrew my investment, would you consider me then?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “We have nothing in common!”

  “So it’s not Ricky or Syl?”

  Sydney laughed. “No, it’s not them.”

  “Have dinner with me. This time you pick the place. I won’t come around the rehearsals anymore, and I won’t show up at your job. Just have dinner with me.”

  Sydney chewed on the prospect. Madame Gustav had her in her sights. Ms. Minetti had seen them leave together. She had to find a way to get him to ease off of her. He was putting everything at risk. She was putting everything at risk by the way his piercing eyes made her feel. “Why won’t you let this go?”

  “Normally at this point, I would. But I’m a man led by my instincts, Sydney. You have no idea where that has taken me. Right now all I want is to know you.”

  “Dinner?”

  “Just dinner.”

  “I pick the place?”

  Nolen reached into his pocket and pulled out his card. “Call me. You pick the place.” Sydney accepted the card, but her eyes never left his. “What did you do to get my friend out of jail? How far would you go to get your way?”

  He looked at her as if her question pleased him. “I did what comes naturally to me. Have dinner with me, and we can talk about how far I’ll go, and how far I’ve gone to get what I want. You may find we have a lot more in common than you think.”

  She slipped the card into her bag and scooted toward the door. Nolen opened it and he helped her onto
the sidewalk. “It was a pleasure speaking with you again.”

  Sydney released his hand and headed to her apartment. The evening wind pushed against her, and she glanced back over her shoulder to see him watching her. “Dinner, huh?” she mumbled. “Who wouldn’t want to have dinner with him?”

  Sydney ran into the landlord on her way upstairs, and after a twenty-five-minute debate and threats to report him to the city for the broken security door, she gave up and headed to the apartment. Inside she found Portia on the sofa with Trish’s arms around her. Ricky paced the floor.

  “Yo, where did all these roses come from, and who is this man that you used to help Portia?” he asked before Sydney closed the door.

  “Hello to you too,” she said, smiling at him as she dropped her backpack and unzipped her jacket.

  Ricky approached her. He touched the side of her face and then gave her a soft kiss on her lips. “Hello, love.”

  Portia looked up, crying.

  “Are you ok, Portia?” Sydney asked.

  She shook her head sadly while Trish rubbed her back. “She won’t tell us what happened to her,” Trish said. “She won’t even tell us the name of the bastard who did this. She keeps saying she’s ashamed.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to hear you judging me.” Sydney pulled off her jacket and tossed it onto a chair before going to her friend and kneeling in front of her. “Sweetie, we would never do that.”

  Portia groaned. “You would, Sydney. Yes, you would.”

  It was Ricky’s turn to be the voice of reason. He stooped before Portia. “Whatever went down wasn’t your fault. You need to tell me who this fool is so I can make sure he doesn’t try anything else.”

  “Nooo…” Portia moaned.

  “Why didn’t one of you call me?” he asked.

  “I was going to, but Nolen said he could get the charges dropped,” Sydney said, smoothing Portia’s hair from her face.

  “Nolen?” Ricky asked, a frown creased his brow.

  “He’s the investor, I mean, executive producer of my show.”

  “Your show?”

  “Oh my goodness, Sydney,” Trish said. “With all the craziness, we haven’t told them your news!” Sydney rose, and all eyes went to her. “I got the part. I’m going to be dancing in an off-Broadway classical ballet production, lead by Xenia Minetti!”