Was it? Were they? Had Maurice told Major about them? In addition to being twins by birth, these two were thick as thieves in life. Maurice was insistent about not keeping their affair a secret, and she was on board with that decision, but had he hurried home to tell his twin about their weekend rendezvous?
Kemp, the Golds’ long-time butler, came into the foyer at that moment. “I’ll take your coats.” The very slim, older gentleman with smooth almond-toned skin appeared as fit as any of them, even though she knew from Maurice he was in his late seventies. He’d been with the Golds for decades.
“Hi, Kemp.” She gave him her coat, but her attention was still attuned to Major, who was staring at her with an odd look on his very handsome face. Even though they were fraternal twins, there was a close resemblance between him and Maurice.
Since Major no longer worked at RGF full-time—he and Nina ran their own company, the Gold Service, on the outskirts of the city—she hadn’t seen him this week.
Yet, the grin he was giving Desta right now was definitely a knowing one.
After Kemp took Maurice’s jacket, she leaned over and whispered in Maurice’s ear. “Does Major know about us?”
Maurice’s response was a glare in Major’s direction and dismissive shake of his head. “No. But come on inside, we might as well get this over with.”
Yes, they might as well—as in this was going to be a very long evening.
“Oh, this is gonna be good.” She heard Major’s comment from behind them and refused to look back.
The Gold twins could be quite an annoying pair when they were together. Normally, she wasn’t bothered by their inside jokes or suspicious looks during their monthly poker games, but tonight she wasn’t in the mood for the tag-team effect. It was going to take all her practiced calm to get through the always-scrutinizing gaze of Marva Gold.
“There you are, Desta. I was wondering when you were going to get here. I told Riley you’re never late.” Speaking of the matriarch of the Gold family, Marva came toward her the moment Desta stepped into the family room.
Wearing winter-white trousers, a shimmering rose-colored blouse and nude pumps, the woman was the fashion industry’s Black royalty. Impeccably dressed, pleasantly composed and timelessly beautiful. She had the same tawny complexion as Maurice, and her thick silver-streaked hair hung in big neat curls to her shoulders while diamond earrings glittered at her ears.
“No, ma’am, I would never be late for your Sunday dinner. I had a few reports to finish up before I left, and there was some traffic.” Her words died as Marva embraced her.
The woman always smelled fantastic, no matter the fragrance she chose. Marva was such a contrast from Desta’s mother, who usually smelled like the hospital where she still worked twelve-to fourteen-hour shifts four days a week.
“I want you to stop working so hard. You’re too young and too pretty to have your face buried in papers and that computer all the time.”
Not used to extra attention from Marva, Desta quickly glanced around the room. She could see RJ—or Ronald Jr.—standing near the classic grand piano, a drink already in hand. Ron Gold Sr., RJ’s older and wiser look-alike, sat astutely on one of the two ivory-colored couches in the room, while Nina and Riley were already parked in the taupe side chairs. Riley’s fiancé, Chaz, stood near her, holding a drink that looked to be the same as RJ’s. So, the gang was definitely all here.
“Are you all right, Desta?” Marva asked, the hint of concern in her tone so noticeable, just about everyone in the room paused their conversation to look in her direction.
Major came around at that moment, talking as he made his way across the room. “She’s fine, Mom. Stop hovering. After driving all the way out here with Maurice, she’s probably just a little windblown. You know how he likes to speed through traffic.”
If she were closer she would’ve punched him in the arm. Not only was she certain Major knew something about her and Maurice—even if Maurice hadn’t confirmed it—but his remark about Maurice speeding immediately touched a nerve with her now that she knew about the car accident with India. She pasted on a smile. “I’m good, Mrs. Gold, really. Just trying to get back in the swing of things after being away last weekend.”
“Oh,” Riley said, her tone a bit too perky, “you were out of town last weekend, too? When I finally heard from Maurice last Sunday night, he said he was away on a ski trip. Where’d you go?”
Wishing for a hole to open up in the floor right now and swallow her was probably too much to ask for, but Desta wasn’t looking to Maurice for help. Brushing the strands of hair she’d flat-ironed a couple hours earlier behind her ears, she squared her shoulders and looked Riley directly in the eye. “You know, it was the strangest thing. I had this brochure for a luxury ski resort in the Finger Lakes and realized it was getting closer to the end of the year and I hadn’t gone anywhere yet. With our busiest season coming up, I figured a long weekend was my best bet.”
“So, you went skiing, too?” Riley asked.
Maurice moved from where he’d been standing right behind her, leaning in to kiss his mother on the cheek. “We ran into each other at the ski resort. Seems the place is extremely popular this time of year.” He spoke as casually as if he’d just said, “Hey, Ma, what’s for dinner?” She clearly wasn’t as aloof as Maurice about all this.
“Dinner is served,” Kemp announced before anyone else could speak.
The questioning gazes coming from everyone in the room spoke volumes, but Desta followed Maurice’s lead and walked toward the dining room.
Tonight’s catered meal was an array of fresh salads, lemon pepper chicken, curry rice, sautéed string beans and
