Joy (8 page)

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Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray

Tags: #General Fiction, #FIC000000

BOOK: Joy
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“Hey, you.”

“You cut quite a dashing figure,” she said, holding the door open wider. Braxton was decked out in the Armani tuxedo she'd helped him select for the Image Awards.

He smiled. “So do you.”

Anya glanced down at her jeans and T-shirt, then smiled back. “I can't compete with you right now.”

He moved so close to her that there was barely space for the air between them. “If I have my way, that'll change. I'm going to seduce you into going with me.”

“Where?” Anya asked softly as his light brown eyes held hers.

He leaned forward, set his lips upon hers, then jerked back when he heard the coughing. “Oh” was all he said, as his eyes moved from Anya to Sasha.

Anya grabbed Braxton's hand. “This is my cousin, Sasha. Remember I told you she was coming?”

“Yeah.” He held out his hand to Sasha, who was leaning against the banister. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

She slapped his hand playfully. “Give me a hug. From the look of the ring on my cousin's finger, we're family.” As they hugged, Sasha said, “I've heard great things about you.”

“I guess she didn't tell you about last night.” He lifted Anya's hand and kissed it. “I'm sorry, honey.”

“Maybe I should go to my room and unpack,” Sasha said, as she sank into a chair across from them. “Seems like this might become a private moment.”

“You don't have to leave.” Braxton led Anya to the couch. “Apologies should only be in private if you don't mean them.” When they sat down, Braxton lifted Anya's hands to his lips. “Forgive me for last night. When the woman I love has success like that, I should have been right by her side.”

Sasha sighed. “How sweet!”

“You're going to have to give up your front-row seat, cousin dear,” Anya said. “I need to talk to Braxton.”

“Sure,” Sasha said, and started up the stairs. “Pretend like I'm not even here!” she yelled down to them. “Just do whatever you would if I weren't here.”

When Braxton heard the bedroom door close, he said, “I'm really sorry I wasn't there for you. Sometimes it's just hard being engaged to a superwoman.”

Anya raised her eyebrows. “What about you? I can't open a magazine without seeing your face.” She squeezed his hand. “And that makes me proud.”

“I'm proud of you too, but it's different. You're comfortable in all situations. I'm not like that. But,” he said, taking her face into his hands, “that's no excuse, because last night was your night. I should have been there.” His fingers glided down the side of her face. “I want to make it up to you. Get into your most dazzling dress.”

Her eyes gleamed. “Where are we going?”

“I'm not telling.”

She hesitated. “This is Sasha's first night. I can't leave her alone.”

“You'd better go with your man!” Sasha shouted from upstairs.

“Sasha!”

“It wasn't like I was up here listening.” Sasha was still not in their sight. “I was just… coming down … to get something to … drink. I'm thirsty.” She finally bounced down the stairs and sat on the arm of the couch. “It sounds so romantic and from the looks of your man here,” she paused, motioning toward Braxton, “umph, umph, umph. Anya, he looks like he's ready to take care of some serious business.”

After a moment Anya said, “If it's really okay with you.”

Sasha nodded.

“But what should I wear? Something long or short? Give me
some
idea of where we're going.”

Braxton's smile widened. “Long might be better, but it doesn't matter. Just wear your mink.”

“Hey, now,” Sasha exclaimed, pushing the palms of her hands toward the ceiling.

Anya stood and started toward the stairs.

Sasha said, “So tell me, Braxton, what happened last night?”

Anya glanced over her shoulder and saw Sasha sliding onto the couch. “None of your business, Sasha,” Anya scolded. “Don't ask any questions. Just keep Braxton company while I get ready.”

Sasha grinned widely. “It'll be my pleasure. You just take your time, cuz!

Chapter 10

A
nya read the name:
Obsession.
With a slight frown, she took Braxton's hand and followed him up the metal stairs. At the top, six white-gloved men dressed in black uniforms greeted them. Although Anya wasn't sure who they were, she could tell one was the captain and the one with the large white hat was obviously a chef.

“Good evening, Mr. Vance.” The captain shook Braxton's hand.

“Captain Norris, nice to meet you. This is my fiancée, Anya Mitchell.”

The captain bowed. “Welcome aboard the
Obsession.
We are here to provide you with every pleasure you desire. Would you like some Dom Perignon?”

Braxton shook his head. “No thank you. I ordered sparkling cider.”

Anya smiled casually and pulled her mink tighter. She glanced around the deck as if she frequented ninety-foot yachts all the time. She didn't want to give any hint to the crew, who remained standing in place, that she was trembling with excitement.

“Would you like a tour, Miss Mitchell?” the captain asked.

“That would be nice,” she said in her most casual voice.

She took Braxton's hand, as they followed the captain up the brass-railed staircase. “What is this?” she whispered.

He responded only with a smile as they stepped through sliding glass doors.

“This is the Ocean Room,” the captain said, with a sweeping gesture. “The main chamber on this yacht.”

This time, Anya could not hide how impressed she was. The spacious room resembled a lounge in Trump Tower. Everything was ash-white, from the deep-piled carpet to the Queen Anne-style couch, matching chairs, and English lamps—even the oak coffee table had been stained to match. An ash-white baby grand piano at the far end added to the grandeur. Fine crystal glasses lined the wenge-wood bar and matched the vases filled with fresh-cut flowers that were throughout the room. The last of the day's light peeked through the full picture windows, but overhead recessed lights provided most of the light in the room.

“This is beautiful,” Anya whispered.

They stopped next in the master stateroom. The Royal Suite was filled with more luxuries than she had at home. The king-sized platform bed was trimmed in gold and matching cabinets were built in along the walls.

The captain opened the double-door armoire. “Should you want to use this room,” the captain said without a hint of judgment, “everything you need is in here.” He pointed out the large-screen television, along with the entertainment center. The captain led them into the full-sized bathroom with two gilded-faucet pedestal sinks. “This is a whirlpool tub and if you should have need of them”— he opened the walk-in closet—”there are complimentary bathrobes.”

In awe, Anya and Braxton followed the captain throughout the rest of the yacht, each room more luxurious than the last. There were two other staterooms, a library that was reminiscent of an English study, lounges throughout, and a spacious galley.

Finally, the captain took them by a small elevator to the top deck. “This is the Solarium.” Both Anya's and Braxton's eyes opened wide as they looked around the glass-enclosed pool area with a panoramic view of the sea. The captain pushed a button, and Anya and Braxton raised their heads and watched as the ceiling retracted. “As you can see, this area is perfect for all kinds of weather.”

Shaking their heads in amazement, they followed the captain back to the Ocean Room, which was now bathed with the flickering light of candles. One of the staff was standing behind the bar holding fluted glasses filled with sparkling cider.

“Mr. Vance, we have dinner set for nineteen hundred hours. Is that all right with you?”

Braxton calculated the time and looked at his watch. That would give them an hour. “Yes.” He nodded and passed a glass to Anya.

The captain showed them the button that would summon any one of them. Then, they were left alone.

Anya slipped out of her coat, revealing the garnet slip dress she was wearing. The ankle-length dress had a front slit ending a few inches above her knee. The velvet hugged her healthy curves and revealed her toned arms. A single strand of pearls graced her neck.

Braxton whistled. “You are gorgeous, my love.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, sipping her cider. She was glad she hadn't let him see what she was wearing before they'd left. Moving to the couch, she snuggled into the generous cushions. “Honey, this is incredible.”

His grin showed that he was pleased and he sat down next to her. “I would do anything to make you happy.” He caressed her bare arms and kissed her gently. She leaned back into him.

They silently sipped their drinks and watched the Marina homes slowly pass by, as the yacht slipped into the Pacific Ocean.

Braxton sighed. “When I was growing up, I could never imagine something like this,” he said. Anya nodded, but remained silent. At times like these, he was talking as much to himself as her. “I couldn't see beyond the next foster home. But I knew one day things would be different.” He was quiet for a moment, and she felt his arms tighten around her. “That's why I thank God for you, Anya. We are going to have the family I never had.”

His hands were clasped around her middle and she lifted them to her lips. But still, she remained quiet, letting Braxton reflect on all he'd accomplished. After a few minutes, she said, “I am so proud of you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you.”

For the next hour, they chatted, making wedding plans and enjoying the starlight twinkling on the sea.

At exactly seven o'clock, the captain led them to the dining room. The mahogany-paneled chamber was lit by candlelight. The table, designed to seat twelve, had been set with Waterford crystal and silver cutlery. After blessing the food, Braxton motioned to the waiter.

They began with lobster bisque so smooth, it barely touched Anya's tongue before it slid down her throat. A crabmeat cannelloni followed, then roast duck with wild rice for the main course. The waiters hovered nearby, though out of sight—until Anya or Braxton's plate was empty or a glass only half-filled. By the time they were shown the dessert tray, Anya was sure she'd burst from just looking. But Braxton chose the double-chocolate mousse cake.

After dinner, Anya and Braxton roamed through the yacht, revisiting every room. They finally settled on the aft deck, where they sat in a full-sized leather-cushioned deck chair and enjoyed the peace of the cool winter night.

“Braxton, I have had an incredible time.”

He caressed her hands. “It's not over yet.”

The sliding glass doors opened and a waiter stepped onto the deck, balancing china on a silver tray. Braxton took one of the steaming cups and gingerly passed it to Anya. She wrapped her hands around its smooth warmth, savoring the sweet pungent aroma of the hot apple cider. The rising vapor flitted over her, forming a slight mist that felt wonderful against the sea air. She took tiny sips, relishing each one.

“Will there be anything else, Mr. Vance?”

Braxton turned to Anya and she shook her head. “No thank you.” The waiter disappeared into the cabin.

Holding the cup carefully, Anya leaned back into Braxton. He tightened his arms around her and snuggled against her coat. “Are you sure you don't want to go inside?” he asked.

“I know it's cold, but it's so beautiful out here. I'm fine if you are.

“Well, this night is for you, so whatever you want.”

They sat silently, as shades of darkness rolled past. The ocean's wind whirled around them.

“Braxton, I can't remember when I've had a better time. I don't want tonight to end.”

As if on cue, the nocturnal air was suddenly filled with a soft melodic sound.

I thought that I was through, trying to find someone exciting and new…

Anya sat up and looked around the deck. “What's that?”

Braxton stood and took Anya's hands, lifting her. He snuggled her against his chest. “That's for you. Something I want you to listen to.”

You taught me how to love.

Showed me how simple things could mean so much …

“Who's singing?” Anya asked. “It sounds like Phyllis Hyman.”

“That's Dawnn Lewis.”

“She's not a singer, she's an actress.”

“Don't tell her that. Ssshhh now, I want you to hear all the words.”

I'd cry, I'd cry if you left my side

I place no one above you …

My love … is so good to me

It's your love I need

The music continued, but Braxton pulled back slightly.

“I'm supposed to be so good with words. But when it comes to telling you how I feel … sometimes that's difficult. This song—this is what I want you to know. I feel so blessed to have you in my life. I will always love you.”

She was full with emotion and this time, she pulled him close.

As the
Obsession
coasted past the southern California beach cities, the words of the song continued to replay and echo into the night. They swayed to the music, though they barely moved, holding each other tightly.

Finally, the music ended and the whirring of the yacht's motor faded.

Anya looked over the railing. “We're not back yet, are we?”

“I think we still have about fifteen minutes. We're going to just drift in now.”

The wind blew relentlessly through the channel and Anya shuddered.

“Are you sure you're not cold?” she asked Braxton.

“No, I'm fine.”

“Too bad.” She opened her coat and spread her arms wide. “I was going to invite you under this with me.”

When he joined her, he brought his lips to hers, their fervor taking only seconds to build. Minutes passed before they stepped apart.

Anya sighed. “How can I ever thank you for such a beautiful evening?”

He stared into her eyes and kissed her deeply, running his hands along her back. “Does this give you any ideas?”

She smiled.

Darkness became illumined from the homes lining the Marina's coast. The ocean's motion enticed them and they explored each other, touching, feeling, connecting, as the boat drifted to its destination. When the boat's rocking finally ceased, they pulled away breathless.

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