people. More important, it transports them to a place they’ll probably never go. Last year you had that piece on those women in Kenya. The ones who were starting a food co-op. They’d all lost their husbands and they were starting a new kind of family—one that would bring money into their village. You made me feel like I was there. That’s a gift.”
Cassidy fidgeted in her chair. “I didn’t know you read my work.”
“Of course I read it. I like seeing the world through your eyes.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to see it that way when I’m in the middle of it.”
“That’s probably true for everyone. Workdays can be consuming. It’s only later that we can look back and get perspective.”
Cassidy looked away. She was obviously uncomfortable and Daisy had no idea why. She was about to ask if Cassidy was in pain when her sister pulled out her cell phone.
“I’m seeing someone,” she announced, touching the screen several times, then turning it so Daisy could see the picture she’d put up.
The man staring back at her was gorgeous, with dark eyes and skin, and long braids. His shoulders were impossibly broad. His half smile made her want to smile back.
“He’s impressive,” Daisy said.
“His name is Desean. He owns the townhouse complex where I live. That’s how we met.”
There was a tone of defiance in her voice, which made zero sense to Daisy.
“He’s in love with me,” her sister added.
“Are you in love with him?”
“That’s not the point.” Cassidy pocketed the phone. “He’s Black.”
“I noticed that from the picture. Are you feeling all right? You’re not making any sense.”
Cassidy’s gaze sharpened. “But he’s Black.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Daisy asked before a terrible truth occurred to her. She half rose from her chair before sitting back down. “You think I’d care about that? You think it matters?”
Tears filled Cassidy’s eyes. “Doesn’t it? Don’t you want to tell me I can’t see him anymore?”
This time Daisy did stand. She took several steps back before answering.
“I get that you and I aren’t close, but I’m angry and hurt you would think so little of me. If Desean makes you happy, then that’s what’s important. Who he is as a man, not what he looks like on the outside. I’ve never done or said anything to make you think I care about things like that. You’re wrong about me, Cassidy. You couldn’t be more wrong.”
With that, she stormed out of the kitchen and hurried up to her bedroom. She closed the door and leaned against it, waiting until the tightness in her chest faded. But she knew the shock and embarrassment that came with her sister’s awful assumptions would take a whole lot longer to go away.
nine
Sage made her way down the wide staircase. Cassidy had texted her at two in the morning, crying about bad dreams and begging Sage to come over. For reasons she couldn’t explain, Sage had agreed and now was paying the price for her generosity. She wanted coffee and then sleep. Unfortunately the latter wasn’t happening. She was due for work at eleven.
Once on the main floor, she headed for the kitchen, thinking she would make herself a cup of coffee before going home for a quick shower.
But when she walked into the kitchen, she wasn’t alone. Esmerelda was pulling food out of the refrigerator.
The woman was of average height, in her fifties, probably a size fourteen, and had short brown hair. She wore an untucked polo shirt over jeans.
Cassidy complained that Esmerelda was totally Team Daisy and had a stink eye that was like a stab to the heart. Until Esmerelda turned and saw Sage in the kitchen, Sage would have said Cassidy was exaggerating.
“Yes?” Esmerelda asked, her tone implying what she really wanted to say was eat shit and die.
“I come in peace,” Sage said, offering the smile she saved for difficult customers. “I was hoping to get some coffee before I go home. Cassidy was especially needy last night and I’m exhausted.”
She watched the battle in the housekeeper’s eyes. Would she do the polite thing and agree to the coffee, or rudely tell her to get out? Sage was about to surrender and simply leave when Esmerelda walked into the butler’s pantry and returned with a mug of coffee. She set it in front of a stool at the island.
“Cream or sugar?” Esmerelda asked.
“Just black is fine. Thanks.”
Sage took a seat and picked up the mug. The familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee