Find more from this author on:
Here is a short sample from the book:
The Wedding Date by Yolanda Allen
Whitney took down the last pin curl, and gave her head a good shake to loosen her curls. Her curls bounced around, falling softly along her collarbone. She pinned one side back with a rhinestone embellished hair comb, showcasing her diamond studs. It had been a long time since she’d been dressed up for a date. Too long. She didn’t remember having butterflies even on their first date years ago.
Whitney smiled at her reflection, more and more she was starting to look like her mother, although she had the deep chocolate tone of her father. She pulled her fluffy, baby pink robe close so she could apply the finishing touches to her makeup without getting residue on her dress. She glanced at the clock sitting above the medicine cabinet. A quarter to seven. Where was Brent? Their dinner reservation was for seven-thirty.
She smoothed a strand of hair from her face. The half-carat, white gold diamond ring sparkled on her finger. Today, one year ago, Brent proposed to her. Today was also their four-year anniversary. They had yet to set a date for the wedding, but she hoped to discuss those details with Brent tonight at dinner.
The front door shut. Brent’s wing tipped shoes tapped across the hardwood floors.
“Brent, sweetie…you only have a few minutes to get ready for dinner. Why are you so late?” Whitney shouted from the bathroom.
Moments later, Brent appeared at the bathroom door. “Hey,” he said, watching Whitney curl her lashes.
She glanced at him in the mirror. His face was flushed. “Hey sweetie, you okay?”
Brent lowered his gaze to the floor. “Whitney, we need to talk,” he said in a low voice.
“Why? What’s up?” She clamped the lash curler onto her eyelash.
“I can’t go to dinner tonight to celebrate our anniversary.”
“What do you mean, Brent? You have to go back to work or something?” She took out her charcoal gray eyeliner from her makeup bag.
“No….I can’t go because we have to call off the engagement.”
“Ouch….shit!” Whitney grabbed her washcloth and placed it on her eye. “Shit!”
“Whitney, are you okay?” He placed his hand on her shoulder.
She shrugged his hand away. “No, Brent I’m not okay, I just poked myself in the damn eye with my eyeliner thanks to you. Damnit!” She opened her eye, blinking rapidly. It was red and watery. She gently cleaned the liner from her lower eyelid with a makeup remover wipe.
“I’m sorry.” He reached to console her.
“Stop! Don’t touch me. How dare you try to comfort me? You just told me that our engagement is off…don’t act like you care about me now.” She pushed past him.
“Whitney, we need to talk about this.”
Whitney grabbed her purse and keys off her bed, stuffed her feet into her heels and headed for the front door.
“Whitney! Where are you going?”
“I have a dinner reservation that I made three months ago. I’m going to dinner!” She caught her reflection in the mirror that hung by the entrance. Damnit. She struggled out of her bathrobe and tossed it onto the sofa. Brent grabbed for her arm as she reached for the door.
Whitney pulled away. “Fuck you!” she said through clenched teeth. “Fuck you, Brent Kaid.” She pushed him in the chest with her clutch. The door slammed before Brent could protest.
Whitney rushed down the stairs and stopped at the lobby door. Her heart raced. She looked back at the staircase. No Brent. She swung open the glass door and sprinted to the curb to hail a taxi.