Read Online Sealed With a Kiss by Gwynne Forster - Free Book Online Page B

you’re going to wear.” Suddenly, Marva seemed more serious than usual. “Someday, Naomi, you’re going to tell me why a twenty-nine-year-old woman who looks like you would swear off men. Honey, I couldn’t understand that even if you were eighty. Don’t you ever want somebody to hold you? I mean really hold you?”
    Caught off guard, Naomi clutched the telephone cord and answered candidly. “To tell the truth, I do. Terribly, sometimes, but I’ve been that route once, and once is enough for me.” Well, it was a half-truth, but she knew she owed her friend a reasonable answer, and she would never breathe the whole truth to anyone.
    She changed the subject. “Guess what happened while you were gone, Marva.”
    “Tell me.”
    “Well, Le Ciel Perfumes saw the ad I did for Fragrant Soaps and gave me an exclusive five-year contract. I get all their business. Girl, I’m in the big time now. Can you believe it? I talked to them as if I could barely fit them into my tight program. Then I hung up, screamed, and danced a jig.”
    “You actually screamed? Wish I’d been there.”
    “But, Marva, that’s what every commercial artist dreams of, a sponsor. I treated myself to a new music system. My feet have hardly touched the ground since I signed that contract.”
    “Go, girl. I knew you had it in you. We’ll get together for some Moët and Chandon; just name the hour.”
    On an impulse and as casually as she could, she asked Marva, “You know so many people in this town, do you happen to know Rufus Meade?”
    “Cat Meade? Is there anybody in the District of Columbia who doesn’t know him or know about him?”
    “I didn’t know him until recently, and I didn’t realize you read books on crime and delinquency, Marva,” she needled gently.
    “Of course I don’t; I hate unpleasantness, especially when it’s criminal. What does this have to do with Cat Meade? Cat was the leading NFL wide receiver for five straight years. Didn’t you ever watch the ’Skins?”
    “Oh, come on, girl. You know I can’t stand violence, and those guys are always knocking each other down.”
    Marva laughed. Naomi loved to hear the big, lusty laugh that her friend delighted in giving full rein.
    “Now I understand your real problem,” Marva told her. “You haven’t been looking at all those cute little buns in those skintight stretch pants.”
    “You’re hopeless,” Naomi sighed. “What about Meade? Did he quit because he was injured, or does he still play?”
    “From what I heard, he stopped because he’d made enough money to be secure financially, and he’d always wanted to be a writer. He’s a very prominent print journalist, and he’s well respected, or so I hear. Why? Are you interested in him?”
    In for a penny; in for a pound. “He’s got something, as we used to say in our days at Howard U, but he and I are like oil and water. And it’s just as well, because I think we also basically distrust each other. He doesn’t care much for career women, and I was raised by a male chauvinist, so a little of that type goes a long way with me. Grandpa’s antics stick in my craw so badly that I’m afraid I accuse Rufus unfairly sometimes. Why do you call him ‘Cat’? That’s an odd name for a guy as big as he is.”
    Marva’s sigh was impatient and much affected. “When are you going to learn that things don’t have to be what they seem? They called him Cat, because the only living thing that seemed able to outrun him were a thoroughbred horse and cheetah, and he moved down the field like a lithe young panther. My mouth used to water just watching him.” The latter was properly supported by another deep sigh, Naomi noted.
    “I hope you’ve gotten over that,” she replied dryly.
    “Oh, I have; he’s not running anymore,” Marva deadpanned. “And besides, it’s my honey who makes my mouth water these days.” She paused. “Naomi, I’ve only met Cat a few times at social functions, and I doubt that he’d