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Authors: Nicole Bradshaw

Champagne Life (37 page)

BOOK: Champagne Life
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“Don't misunderstand, Mimi. I didn't say I didn't want it, but there's no way you're gonna ever catch me slobbin' down some chicken on no plane. Oh, hells no.”

I laughed. “You are so stupid.”

“Last chance,” she said, waving the sunscreen tube back and forth. “Sure you don't want some?”

I shook my head. “I'm good, thanks.”

“Okay then, let's go!”

I glanced down at Ticia's floral, strapless peach and yellow sundress.
“If you're so worried about sunburn, why didn't you wear sleeves?”

“Sleeves in the Bahamas? C'mon, now, that look is not cute.”

“And neither is shellacking grease all over your arms and legs. Couldn't you have done that on the airplane?”

“I could've, but didn't.” She carefully navigated her way down the last step off the plane in her Jimmy Choos. “Now stop your complainin' and let's go!” Ticia grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the airport entrance. “Finally, we're in the Bahamas, baby! Feel that beautiful sun.” She lowered her sunglasses an inch and peered over the top, “And check out all those yummy Bohemian men!”

My eyes followed her gaze. Two dark chocolate men in pristine uniforms, medals included, stood at the gate leading into the airport. One guy was well over six feet with broad, stiff shoulders. The other guy, a little shorter, looked just as physically fit. Even through his starched white shirt I could see his chiseled chest.

“It's Bahamian,” I said, still checking out the guys. The shorter guy whispered something to the taller one. They both looked over at us.

“Huh?”

“It's Bahamian, not Bohemian. The men here are not some hippy, retro seventies throwbacks.”

“You are a straight buzz kill,” she said with a toss of her weave. “You're here for the same thing I am…to find a guy.”

“I have a guy,” I reminded. “Did you forget about Kevin?”

I actually missed Kevin a little bit. He and I had been dating for seven months. In fact, he dropped me off at the airport to catch the flight for our Girl's Weekend in the Bahamas. However, if someone were to ask how our relationship was going, I couldn't tell ya. Even though we had been exclusively dating for several
months, our relationship seemed to be
re
gressing instead of
pro
gressing. He lived in Philly and I lived further out in the suburbs so we decided to see each other only on weekends. I would go down to his spot on Saturday mornings and hang out until Sunday evening. Fridays were another story. Fridays were not happening with Kevin. At first, I believed he only wanted to hang out with his buddies on those nights, but when I told Ticia, her immediate reaction was, “Girl, are you stupid? He's seeing other chicks!” After the fifth month, we—mostly he—decided to only hang out on Sundays, like when we first started seeing each other. When I told Ticia that, she said, “Girl, are you stupid?” That was her mantra. She needed to write a book with that title. I was certain she'd make a million bucks off the title alone.

She so eloquently informed me that Kevin wasn't interested in “only my black ass.” In Ticia's words,
he's pretty much banging the entire northeast.

Ahhhh yes, tact was so overrated.

“Girl, are you stupid?” she asked with another toss of her hair. She was trying a new style and decided on curly instead of straight this time. “So what he drove you to the airport? He probably couldn't wait to get you out of town so he could get his dirt in.”

I hated talking about Kevin with Ticia. I hated talking about
any
guy with her. I changed the subject as fast as I could. “Did you see those guys staring at us?” I smirked when I realized the irony of my question.

“Yup, and I plan to get me one of those Bohemian guys too.”

“Bahamian.”

“Whatever!”

We headed into the airport terminal and toward the big red sign titled,
Customs
. “You'd better be careful. These dreadlock-wearing people will lock you up in a minute. They smoke ganja all day long
while listening to Bob Marley and Beres Hammond and then want to lock you up for having a coconut in your suitcase.” She looked down at my bag. “You ain't got a coconut in your case, do you?”

“First off,” I began. “That sentence had at least four derogatory stereotypes in it. Second, how would I have a coconut in my suitcase? We're coming
from
Philly. Ask me that dumb question when we leave! Wait, on second thought, don't.”

“Good morning, Ladies.”

Ticia leaned her head back and whispered, “Keep an eye out for these guys too. They are desperate to get a hold of some unsuspecting American chick to wife up so they'll get a green card.”

“Are you serious?” I asked incredulously. “Would you stop, please? I don't know which is worse, insulting them with that green card mess or insulting me by even thinking I'm that stupid.”

“You are the one that is dating Kevin, not me. I'm just sayin'…”

I grabbed her elbow and steered her toward the
American Citizens
sign, the longest line, of course.

After having our bags ransacked—her word, not mine—by Bahamian custom agents, we stepped out once again into the dazzling sunshine. Not a cloud in the sky.

I thought about telling Ticia that Kevin and I decided to take a break right before he dropped me off at the airport, but then rethought that. The night before the trip, he told me he needed “time to himself to get his thoughts together.” He never mentioned another woman.

“With everything that's going on,” he had said right after coming out of the movies one night. “I need time to concentrate on my job.”

The funny thing was, I never even broached the subject in the first place. You can best believe I called him out on his lie, though. Apparently, he forgot he told me two days prior that he'd been
laid off from his job. He quickly retracted his statement. “I meant that I was concentrating on my job
search.”

Reluctantly, I agreed with the intention of getting back with him when I returned. Desperate, I knew, but what else did I have? But as I stood in the warm tropical breeze, I felt a sense of relief that Kevin and I were on the outs. Call it intuition, but it felt like I was destined to meet someone here. Ticia must've felt my fate too, because at that exact moment, she leaned over to me and whispered, “I think I'm gonna get me some here. Watch.”

Close enough!

Nicole Bradshaw
has written a historical novel for young readers titled
Unsinkable
which details a fictitious day-by-day account of the only black family on the
Titanic
. She is also the author of
Caviar Dreams
and
A Bond Broken
. She was born and raised outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania in a quaint little town called Malvern. Bradshaw currently resides in Freeport, Bahamas, with her husband and three children. During her college years, she needed funds for books, so she came up with the bright idea of starting an on campus advice column. She charged students $7 for her witty advice on dating and relationships. That year she made $14. For more information, check out
www.writernicole.com
or
Facebook.com/NicoleBradshawBooks
.

ALSO BY
NICOLE BRADSHAW

Unsinkable

A Bond Broken
(original ebook)

Caviar Dreams
(original ebook)

Strebor Books

P.O. Box 6505

Largo, MD 20792

http://www.streborbooks.com

www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

© 2014 by Nicole Bradshaw

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whatsoever. For information address Strebor Books, P.O. Box 6505, Largo, MD 20792.

ISBN 978-1-59309-485-0

ISBN 978-1-4767-0393-0 (ebook)

LCCN 2013933672

First Strebor Books trade paperback edition January 2014

Cover design:
www.mariondesigns.com

Cover photograph: © Keith Saunders/Marion Designs

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
www.simonspeakers.com
.

BOOK: Champagne Life
2.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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